Ashes to Ashes
by Keyade
Summary: 1000 years after the Titans disappeared, humanity has reduced them to a thing of legends. Lord Rivaille and the street urchin Eren meet under the most unlikely circumstances. Will their struggle for survival tear them apart, or will they find strength and comfort in each other? Set in a time with kings and epic battles and such. This story is also available in Chinese.
1. Lord of the Manor

**Ashes to Ashes**

**Note: Levi = Rivaille = Rivai (whatever you want to call him)**

**Chapter 1**

**Lord of the Manor**

He was almost getting sick of this problem. It wasn't a serious one, and yet it lingered at the periphery of the minds of Kingdom's citizens, hovering like a fly that just won't go away. Over the past five years it had existed, prompting people to come up with the most ridiculous explanations. Some said it was a clever single assassin, extremely apt at covering his tracks. Others whispered of a large beast, appearing only at night for the kill.

There was even one who said that it might be a Titan. Of course, this lunatic was scoffed at by the public. Of all the dumb hypotheses!

Lord Rivaille sighed disdainfully and leaned back wearily on an armchair too large for his slight person. He scanned his very orderly and expansive study room, trying to find a speck of dust or a tiny stain on any surface, so that he might release some of his frustration by ticking off a servant or two.

His eyes fell on a conical glass bottle on a chair in the far corner. It contained an offensive looking purple solution which was still bubbling dubiously.

_Hanji, that idiot. She thinks my mansion is her personal laboratory. _

The eccentric woman had been to here to announce her findings an hour ago, bringing along a very detailed report (full of scientific mumble-jumble that probably only she could understand) on the most recent disappearances. She apparently thought that it would be a good idea to take this opportunity too, to show the lord her new invention. It was called the 'amazing self-exploding solution'. According to her, just pouring it on things would cause varying degrees of explosions and set it on fire. Lord Rivaille had given it one skeptical look and turned to the reports, completely ignoring her excited chatter about that liquid. She had probably forgotten to take it back to her quarters in her excitement. He hoped it wouldn't actually work, or the resulting explosion would make his study as disorderly as Hanji's laboratory.

Lord Rivaille had a reputation of being a workaholic, but today, he was finally starting to tire of these unhelpful findings. If even the brilliant (but scatterbrained) Hanji couldn't figure it out, they were still a long way from closing these series of cases. He eased himself out of his chair and opened the windows, inhaling the gust of fresh air. In the gardens below, the work of the manor went on as it did everyday. The stable hand Sasha was slacking off as usual, chewing a potato on a stack of hay, cheerfully thinking that nobody saw her. Marco the gardener was busy tending to the summer herbs, whistling as he did so. In the distance, the Commander of his personal guard, Annie, was barking at the frightened new recruits, making them run laps around the manor under the unforgiving sun.

From the kitchen where the chef Jean worked, the smell of roast duck wafted up, making the lord realize how hungry he was. Just as he was about to head for the pantry to fix himself a snack, his eyes caught a flash of movement. There was a man hiding behind a hedge in the garden, someone Rivaille was sure wasn't in his employ.

The man crouched surreptitiously as gardener Marco walked past. He reappeared and dashed across the garden. No one else saw him. He was fairly young - less than twenty, perhaps. His faded green tunic was torn and patched at many places, and his brown hair resembled a disorderly clump of grass.

The lord narrowed his eyes as the youth crept into the manor through the kitchen door.

_A thief?_

He scowled in irritation and made a mental note to inform Commander Annie to train those unobservant fools of guards better. The brazen thief was probably no more than a hungry street ruffian who wanted some food. He'll watch the thief when he sneaked back out. If he took nothing more than a loaf bread or a mound of cheese, Rivaille would pretend he didn't exist and let him go. If he took something more important, Rivaille would personally teach him a lesson about stealing which the daring idiot should have learnt from his mother.

It seemed that he had overestimated this thief's proficiency, for bare minutes later, Chef Jean came bawling down the corridor, barging in red-faced as he announced:

"M'LORD! WE CAUGHT A THIEF IN THE STORE ROOM!"

On closer inspection, there was actually not one - but three people making a din at his door. There was a very frightened Armin on Jean's right. And there was also a violently struggling boy held firmly in between them.

He was indeed the thief Rivaille saw earlier. He was even younger than he thought, possibly only fifteen. He had a thin frame and was a little taller than the lord himself. His face and clothing were smeared with dirt, and his hair looked even more unkempt up close. The boy glared back at him with defiant green eyes, hollering profanities about short, rich lords. Rivaille looked nonchalantly at the display, more amused than offended.

It wasn't long before the boy realized that Armin was much weaker, and managed to land a punch in the poor servant's face. Jean was distracted and loosened his grip for a fraction of a second, allowing the boy to slip out of the door.

Almost.

"Let go of my ear, you vertically challenged –"

"Quiet!" snapped Rivaille, twisting the boy's ear in a way he knew would cause a lot of pain.

This subdued the rowdy little thief. Still holding him by the ear, Rivaille pulled him to the centre of the room and threw him onto the floor. There he sat like a cornered rat, whimpering curses.

"What's your name?" the lord demanded.

"Aren't you gonna ask me what I stole first?" the boy yelled back, still defiant.

"You didn't steal anything," Rivaille stated, amused.

The boy reddened, crossed his arms and looked away with an angry 'hmph'.

"Name."

"Not answering a midget like you," the boy replied rudely, before cringing into a ball after Rivaille aimed a sharp kick at his stomach.

"Eren," he finally replied sulkily. His green eyes glinted as he shouted. "Go ahead and lock me up! I'm not afraid of you!" Which earned him another kick, this time…well… in a place which hurt a lot more.

"You monster!" he wailed as he rolled around on the floor.

"I'll have my chef cut it off if you don't shut up," Rivaille threatened, and was awarded with blessed silence at once.

"Now," Rivaille continued. "What did you come to steal?"

Seeing as there was no way out of this, the boy Eren answered with great reluctance.

"H-herbs."

"Herbs?" For the first time today, Rivaille was slightly taken aback. "What do you want them for?"

There was a moment of silence.

"My sister's sick," the boy whispered, suddenly close to tears. "I'm usually too proud to steal from selfish lords like you, but s-s-she's…she's dying."

(To be Continued)

**Author's Note: **

**Hey guys! This is my first fic on fanfiction…I've been wanting to write one for such a long time :) I've tried drawing, singing, living on tumblr, pretending to be a Titan…to release my massive amount of SnK FEELS, but I decided that I needed to write a fic, or I'll still explode. **

**Please leave a review if you like it! Reviews are the world to me. Also, if you've spotted any grammatical/spelling errors, please do let me know! Thank you so much for reading this.**

**P.S. please don't flame me about the picture. I actually do own the coverpage, since I drew it (You'll be surprised at the number of people who've accused me of stealing my own pictures haha). I know Mikasa isn't in the main pairing, but until I draw a Levi/Eren picture, Mikasa will have to do! You can find the full version of the drawing, as well as the rest my art at my deviantart or tumblr (google ****Keyade Deviantart**** or ****Keyade Tumblr**** since I can't add links)**


	2. Laughter is the Best Medicine

Ashes to Ashes 

**Note: Levi = Rivaille = Rivai (whatever you want to call him)**

**Chapter 2**

**Laughter is the Best Medicine**

Rivaille was rather bewildered. Just moments ago, this feisty little idiot was screaming at the top of his lungs, and the next, he was reduced to a mess of sobs. He looked so angry at himself for crying, it would have been funny if not for the gravity of the matter.

"M'lord, don't listen to him. Scum like him lie all the time to get out of trouble!"

"Jean, Armin, you may leave."

"But m'lord! This little pest is –"

"Take Armin to Hanji. He needs a balm for his face, or it's going to swell."

Scowling, the chef left with the whimpering blonde servant boy.

"I don't care what you think of me! All you lords do is sit comfortably in your mansions and grow fat while we're starving in the streets!"

Eren had stopped crying and recovered some of his rowdy demeanor. Rivaille marveled at how familiar those words sounded. Hadn't he uttered them himself, so many years ago? But it wasn't the time to reminiscence. This brat was too noisy, and he had to be dealt with as soon as possible.

"If you value your crown jewels," he began. "You would do well to shut up and sit still."

Eren sat stock still.

"What herb is it?"

"Feverfew and yarrow," Eren muttered sullenly.

Rivaille crossed his study, heading for his bookcase. Eren watched him warily.

"Even if you got your hands on those, you don't know how to prepare them," Rivaille stated bluntly.

"I'll find out," Eren insisted.

"Not a retard like you," Rivialle scoffed. He stopped pacing and looked at the boy.

"Hey brat, know how to ride a horse?"

"What?" Eren said, momentarily baffled. "Y-yes. What does that even have to do –"

"Go down to the stables. The stable girl is probably too busy stuffing her face to notice you. Get a horse and get your sister here. We'll have my physician take a look at her."

Eren wasn't sure he heard right. He stared blankly at the lord, not moving an inch.

"Hanji is a good physician," Rivaille said, frowning. Didn't the idiot trust him?

There was a few moments of dead silence. Rivaille was beginning to wonder if the boy had turned to stone. He waved a hand in front of the boy's dirty face, getting no reaction.

_Oh no, _Rivaille thought, beginning to worry. _I must have kicked him too hard. He can't be really hurt!_

"F…for r-real?" Eren whispered finally, his voice shaking in disbelief. "Y..you're actually…helping me?"

Rivaille mentally kicked himself for even bothering to fret over the stupid brat.

Slowly, the ruffian's face broke into a massive grin, and tears began flowing freely from his brilliant green eyes. He made a sound between a sob and a laugh, his blatant happiness filling the whole room. He scrambled up with incoherent words of gratitude, pouncing at the lord with a clumsy hug. Rivaille side-stepped it just in time, and the idiot tumbled into the shelf.

Rivaille sighed, messaging his temples.

"Get your stupid face out of here and don't disturb me until you're back with your sister," he snapped. "You give me a headache."

He watched as the boy dashed out of his room, smiling so widely that his face might just split.

He dusted off a fleck of dirt he had acquired from the ruffian. Eren, was it? Rivaille had never heard laughter so full of life.

**Author's note: **

**Hey guys! This is a shorter chapter :) The romance is starting lol…and in case you haven't figured, the sick sister is Mikasa. I won't let her die, don't worry. I haven't the heart to kill off my favourite character. **

**You can find my art on my deviantart (just google ****Keyade Deviantart****) or tumblr (google ****Keyade Tumblr****). As always, reviews are very very welcome! Please also let me know of any grammatical/spelling mistakes. **

**Until next time!**


	3. Uncivilized

Ashes to Ashes 

**Chapter 3**

**Uncivilized**

I hope I got the correct things. Hanji won't yell at me, she's kind and funny – I really like her. But the lord will give me his withering look, and I'll cringe into a ball and try to find a place to hide. I'm sure he's only half the height of some people in this house, and yet they all fear him like an elephant fears a mouse. Hanji must be the only one not afraid of him – she's afraid of nothing at all!

I'm not saying that the lord isn't kind – he is in fact, a very good man. It's hard to imagine that someone so small could have such a huge heart, and I really respect him for that. I've heard from the Sasha that he's actually trying to save someone's life! It was the sister of the strange boy we found – he was rummaging through the sacks of grain in the barn yesterday.

Speaking of the strange boy, he gave me a large bruise on my forehead. He didn't hit me that hard – it's just that I bruise really easily. I hate being so weak. The lord knows of this and has tried to toughen me up by sending me to his guard, but Commander Annie threw me back here a few days later. I couldn't do most of the drills, and became ill on the first day after being in the sun for too long. Nowadays, the lord just lets me help with some of his paper work. I think I've done a good job, because he never berates me and keeps sending more. I feel useful here, and it feels good to be useful for once.

I give the door a soft knock and waited for a polite second before entering with my tray of medicine.

"Excellent, Armin! You got the right things again without me telling! Hey Rivaille, he's really clever! Let him be my apprentice!"

The lord sends Hanji one of his scariest glares, but the loud woman hasn't noticed at all. She has taken the tray from me and begun mixing the solutions deftly, muttering calculations to herself. I look around the usually empty infirmary. It is crowded today, with the lord, Hanji, the patient, and the strange boy.

He looks so much cleaner today. The lord has probably forced him to take a bath, and made Jean lend him some clean clothes (which were too large for him). Nevertheless, Lord Rivaille is still sitting quite a distance away from him, as if he's afraid he might catch some kind of germ from the slum boy.

I find the lord's obsession with hygiene quite funny.

The boy is observing Hanji so tensely that he hasn't noticed me come in at all. His face was frozen in a frown, and his brilliant green eyes were filled with concern. He looks like he hadn't slept at all last night. The poor fellow – he's so worried that he's sweating, even though he's wearing too little on this cold morning. His sister is sweating too, but it is the kind of sweat that indicates the break of a high fever. She must be recovering, then! Hanji is amazing, isn't she?

"Ah, Armin," the lord said from his corner. "Good that you're here. I'll leave these fools in your care – I have more important matters to see to. Report to me at lunch and make sure they_ don't dirty _the place!"

"Yes, Lord Rivaille!" I salute as he leaves. This means that he actually trusts the ruffian not to wreck his mansion while he's gone, or steal anything. I think I know why – the boy is really proud, and proud people are honorable enough to respect each others' spaces.

Being a proud man himself, the lord understands that.

I thought Lord Rivaille's tolerance of that street kid and his ill sister would end right after Hanji gave the girl enough medication to ensure that she would live, but surprisingly, he has made no move to chase them out even after sundown. He has been cooped up in his study for the whole day, and I am beginning to wonder if he had forgotten them completely. I couldn't let them stay the night without the lord's permission, so I interrupted his work for a moment.

"Um–"

"Give them food and lodging until the girl recovers," he says shortly, still buried in mounds of documents. He waves his hand at me in a shooing motion. "Now leave, I am busy."

I give a salute and head for the kitchen. Collecting enough bread, stew and cheese for three, I return to the infirmary. It is clear that his sister was in a much better condition now, for the atmosphere is visibly relaxed. Hanji is still bustling about and fussing like a nurse, but the boy has slumped onto the bed, barely awake but still holding his sister's hand. He isn't just deprived of last night's sleep – he couldn't have slept well for many days. He needs some good food, and an unbroken rest.

"Hey, eat up," I say, setting the tray in front of him. "You look half dead."

He smiles weakly at me, entirely different from the unruly ruffian we caught yesterday. He notices the purple patch on my forehead, and sits up immediately.

"I'm so sorry for punching you!" he apologizes, bowing his head. "I was just so desperate to get away."

"Oh…it's alright, really. It was an accident!"

He smiles in relief. What a wonderful smile he has. It goes all the way up to his lively eyes, lighting his whole face. No wonder the lord trusts him. No one with such a smile would ever have ill intentions. It is infectious, and I feel my own smile tugging at my lips.

"I'm Armin Arlert. You're much less uncivilized than I thought!"

"Eren Jaeger," he replies. "I'm much more uncivilized than you think!"

We laugh a little at that. His laughter is open, wild and carefree, just like the rest of him. He ate his food with relish, but I could see that he was ready to drop. With the weight of his sister's health off his shoulders, the perpetual frown he wore for the whole day has disappeared, replaced by a look of relieved weariness.

"Lord Rivaille has allowed you to stay for the time being," I tell him. "Come on, I'll show you to the servants' quarters."

"I can't leave Mikasa," he insists.

Hanji crosses over and taps him on the head with a pestle she was using to grind herbs.

"You'll fall sick yourself and give me more trouble if you don't sleep now," she chides, but her voice is kind.

"But Mikasa –"

"Come on, you idiot! I seen her through the worst of this fever and saved her from a potentially fatal infection, and you don't trust me to take care of her for one night? What kind of ignorant peasant are you?"

Of course, Eren stops protesting after that, partly also because he is way too tired. He spents the last of his energy thanking Hanji frantically and wishing the unconscious 'Mikasa' goodnight before following me downstairs. He's yawning and so tired that he can't seem to walk straight.

I decide to talk more to him tomorrow. Like Lord Rivaille, I think I can trust him. From what I've seen, he's honest, forthright and as untamed as the wind. If we're going to be living together for some time, it would be good to make friends.

**Author's Note: A chapter from Armin's POV! Armin is an adorable character, always so unassuming and selfless. And no, he's not hitting on Eren lol. Cute guys like him should be kept single for the fangirls. _Please leave a review if you've liked the story so far!_ Reading what you guys think really makes my day!**

**And because I still haven't managed to effectively release my feels, I've recorded myself singing the Shingeki no Kyojin ED (lowered by 4 semitones lol). Nevertheless, I've still managed to sound like a strangled chicken. You can hear it for yourself here: **

**www,youtube,com/watch?v=ZsY5oqvE6l4 (replace , with .)**

**You can also find my art on deviantart: google Keyade Deviantart**

**or tumblr: google Keyade Tumblr**

**Until next chapter!**


	4. Different Preferences

**Ashes to Ashes**

**Chapter 4**

**Different Preferences**

Eren Jaeger hated to admit it, but he was in the debt of nobility.

Two weeks ago, while they were out collecting firewood, the usually tough Mikasa had collapsed on the way back to their dingy shack. Eren was bewildered and a little panicked at that, and had carried her back home. He dismissed it for dizziness caused by the lack of nourishment (they've only had a small loaf of bread to share that morning, and it was already dusk), but Mikasa was too strong to faint from something as trivial as that.

He began be alarmed when she hadn't roused by midnight. He touched her forehead, only to realize that it was scorching. Hurriedly, he placed a damp cloth on it and tried to feed her some water, but she wouldn't drink any.

What should he do? It was always Mikasa looking after him when he fell sick. She had never needed any of his care.

She finally regained consciousness at dawn, but Eren's momentary relief was shattered by her uncontrollable coughing and vomiting. This time, he carried her to Hannes' tavern. There were two girls working there who knew a little about healing – maybe they could help.

Ymir and Christa gave her a brew of foul black liquid, but she couldn't keep it down either. Towards the end of the day, Mikasa's fever rose even more, and Hannes let her stay in the tavern, where it was slightly warmer than their shack. They took turns to stand vigil over her, but she showed no signs of recovery. This went on for days, and soon Mikasa stopped having even brief spates of consciousness. The persistent high fever was turning her skin from pink to purple. When she coughed up traces of blood, Eren decided that waiting in vain for her to fight the illness by herself was going to cost her life.

"But I don't know what's wrong with her!" Christa sobbed. Nothing she did was working, and she was so afraid for Mikasa. "We need to bring down that fever, but our herbs aren't potent enough!"

"Then what is potent enough?!" Eren yelled back, desperation making him forget his courtesy to someone who tried to help him.

Christa wailed that something called feverfew could, mixed with the essence of yarrow root. But those herbs were so expensive and rare that they would never be able to afford them. Besides, they were not in season, and thus could not be found in the market even if they had the means to purchase them.

"So you're saying we're going to watch her d-die?!"

There was a resounding clang as something metallic fell on Eren's head.

"Shut up, you idiot," Ymir demanded, waving her frying pan threateningly. "Nobody said anything about dying. The herbs won't be at the market, that's true, but I know how to get them in time."

She pulled Eren out of the tavern, pointing at the foreboding white mansion sitting at the top of a distant hill.

"Pixis Mansion," she said. "I've heard that the current lord has employed a famous physician. They'll probably have every kind of medicine in the world, those rich bastards. I've gone there a few times to deliver ale. The guards aren't that sharp, it'll be easy to sneak in."

And thus, without a trace of a plan or much stealth, Eren hurried to the mansion. Ymir was wrong about the guards though – the only reason why Eren (who had never sneaked before, let alone steal anything) could even enter the building was because almost all the guards were in the yard doing some physical drill under a terrifying female commander. He was spotted by the chef swiftly after, and was dragged to the petite lord of the house. Eren had thought he was done for, but a series of unexpected events occurred. Now, Mikasa was sitting in a clean, comfortable bed, finally able to consume some porridge on her own. In fact, even Eren himself was cleaner than he had ever been.

He didn't really have words to express how grateful he was to the short nobleman and his over-excited doctor for saving the life of his only family, but he was even more baffled as to _why _the lord would even bother to help them. Poor as they were, there wasn't anything they could possibly offer in return. It would take more than a lifetime for firewood collectors like them to reimburse the cost of the medicine, not to mention the cost of staying in the mansion for a whole week.

Nevertheless, he had to speak to the lord at least once, if only to inform him that Mikasa was well again and hear what enormous compensation he wanted for the trouble. He hadn't seen the lord at all since the first day he had been here, but his new friend Armin said he would be in his study.

Now Eren stood outside the large oak doors of the room, taking deep breaths. The last time he had been here, he had been quite thoroughly _kicked_ by the lord, who could put an astonishing amount of force into each blow despite his size. Eren hated to admit this too, but his hands were going clammy at the prospect of going in.

He swallowed and knocked.

"Come in," said a deadpan voice. Eren gulped some air.

The lord was sitting at his desk, carefully examining a stack of papers. He didn't even look up as Eren came in.

"I-I…" Eren began, not daring to look at him either. He suddenly flopped down, kneeling with his face on the ground.

"I JUST WANTED TO SAY THANK YOU VERY MUCH, SIR!" he said in a rush and much louder than necessary. He could feel his face going pink and didn't dare to look up. He could almost feel the lord's unsmiling glare boring into his skull.

"Get up, you're dirtying my carpet," the lord snapped after a pause.

"Y-yes Sir!" said Eren, scrambling to obey. Lord Rivaille glowered at him.

"My sister has almost recovered, Sir! We can stop troubling you–"

"Good, then leave," he interjected, waving Eren out.

"B-but we have to repay you for the kindness!"

At this, the lord looked up, narrowing his eyes. "And how," he scoffed, "Are you going to do that?"

"I…don't know, Sir," said Eren, red-faced.

"Exactly," said the lord, looking at his papers again. "Therefore, stop disturbing me and get out."

"Let me work here, Sir!" Eren said suddenly. He closed his mouth, astonished at himself. Where did _that_ come from? He hadn't intended it at all.

"Work here?" said the lord, sounding as incredulous as his monotonous voice would allow.

"Well…"

"I have enough retards for servants as it is."

At this, there was a rap on the door. The lord turned around irritably as a young blonde woman came in. Eren recognized her. Armin had told him that she was Lady Petra, a relative of the lord's currently staying at the mansion before she marries another nobleman and moves away next year. She was soft-spoken and friendly, and would sometimes ask Eren to help carry boxes for her to and fro her study. Unlike the lord, she would visit Mikasa everyday to see how she was doing, and keep her company when Hanji wasn't there. Earlier this morning, she even took Mikasa on a slow stroll through the gardens, saying that she needed fresh air to recover fully. If anything, she made Eren rethink his assumptions about nobles.

"Rivaille, we seem to have a problem," she announced, frowning at a letter she was holding in her hands. "We've just been notified by the King that he would be coming on a visit to town Shiganshina in a month, and would be staying at this mansion for a while. There's so much preparation to be done! And a three of our maids have just told me that their mother has taken ill, and will be returning to their village…"

"Relax, Petra. We have a month." But the lord also wore a concerned frown.

"We don't have enough hands! Have you any idea how sparsely decorated this mansion is? Those massive gardens need to be entirely rearranged, _everything_ wooden needs to be polished. Even if the maids were here, we need more people to service the King and his entourage," Lady Petra said, shaking her head. Then, she seemed to _suddenly_ notice Eren and _dramatically_ brightened up.

"Say, can we get this kid and his sister to help? We won't be able to find anyone else in time, anyway."

Lord Rivaille sighed and pressed his fingers to his temples, as if all this was giving him a headache. Eren looked at her gratefully, his hopes rising.

"Absolutely not. He's stupid and noisy," he muttered.

Eren sighed.

Lady Petra however, was smiling fondly. She must be very used to the lord's foul mood, after so many years. As for Petra herself, she knew that Rivaille wouldn't refuse her anything if she asked hard enough.

"If you say so," she laughed. She patted a Eren on the back. "But he's also very strong and honest. And you know, that girl Mikasa is worth many servants! She is as smart as Armin. She can weave, embroider and even cook when she's still weak with her illness! And she's pretty – I'm sure the King would appreciate that!"

_What?_ Eren frowned. _No way in hell, King or not! _

"Hmph," said the lord, unimpressed. "You should know that His Majesty has…_different_ preferences," he pointed to Eren. "I dare say this idiot here would better _appreciated_ by the King."

_WHAT?!_ Eren moved a few steps back. He wasn't sure he understood that correctly.

Lady Petra looked as if she thought that was the most amusing thing in the world.

"Alright, you old grump. Come on, I'll take care of them. They won't bother you at all."

She gave Eren a quick wink when the lord looked away for a second. Rivaille's permanent frown deepened, and he gave an annoyed 'tsk'.

"Fine," he said after a pause. "Now get going, the both of you. I've had enough idiocy for one morning."

**Author's Note: Lady Petra is a fujoshi like me (and **_**you readers too**_** LOL). So that was a really long chapter! I had loads of fun writing it, because it's from Eren's very innocent POV hahaha :D Now I've gotten you guys wondering who the king is, haven't I? Watch out Rivaille, you have a competitor! **

**Anyway, do leave a review if you've enjoyed it so far! :) I've gotten reviews from some wonderful people, and I'm so grateful for your encouragement! I'll update soon!**

**And sigh…I still need to draw a coverpage for this story. Mikasa can't be there forever…**


	5. Even Grumpy Men Must Smile

**Ashes to Ashes**

**Chapter 5**

**Even Grumpy Men Must Smile**

"Let me do it," I say to Eren. Back home, he couldn't even bring plates from one end of the shack to another without causing some sort of disaster. Now, he thinks he can bring the lord his afternoon tea, with the expensive china and all.

"I'm not your kid, Mikasa," he grumbles, holding the tray away from my grasp. The teacup rattled dangerously at the vigorous movement. "I can handle this. Besides, you should be resting."

I do feel tired sometimes, but I've been doing much more than he thinks I have. Neither the lord nor Lady Petra have asked me to do anything other than the simplest sewing or mending, and I've gotten plenty of time to recuperate. I can't afford to be weak, Eren needs me. Just yesterday, he was sent by the lord to clean out the basement – a simple task. But just as I expected, Eren did things in his haphazard, careless manner, and managed to cause a greater mess then there originally was. The lord was not in the least amused, and had sent him back down to re-clean the place. Eren must have been surprised to find the basement spotless when he came back, because I've made a trip there.

Eren hurries away from the kitchen, forgetting the jar of sugar – which is just as well, since I've heard from Jean that the lord doesn't like sugar in his tea. Even so, I'm sure that something would go wrong, and that the lord would send him back and forth the kitchen to fix the mess that he'll probably cause. In the end, either myself, Armin or Jean would have to go up to remedy the problem anyway.

I'm not sure if I'm imagining it, or that the lord actually derives some sort of twisted pleasure from tormenting Eren. It is true that Eren seldom does things to a standard deemed acceptable by the difficult nobleman, that his wild personality makes him ill suited to the life of a household servant. The lord seems irritated by the very sight of him, and yet he calls for him more often than any of us. He disapproves of every breath Eren takes, and yet he gives Eren the most orders. He never finds trouble with the rest of us. Does he need an outlet for his stress from work, or do Eren's clumsy failures at servitude amuse him that much?

Does he just want to find a vulnerable, frightened kid to bully? Armin would make a much better target then, not that I'm being mean.

Whatever it was, I have to put a stop to it soon. Eren is not a pest that he can scorn or step on as much as he likes. I am overwhelmingly grateful to the lord for saving my life, but not so much that I can ignore this.

As I expected, Eren comes rushing in, frantically asking for a cloth to clean up something that he'd spilled in the lord's study. I sigh and shake my head.

I wish that just for once, he would listen to me.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000

It's been more a fortnight since he had last seen the rowdy kid and his sister, and three more weeks to the arrival of the King. Lord Rivaille was never going to admit it, but he was impressed at the amount of work that the two of them had managed to get done. Well, what his sister had managed to get done, anyway.

Rivaille was amused by both of them, in different ways. Petra was right about the girl called Mikasa – she was not just beautiful and elegant, but extremely intelligent and efficient. She was flawless in every way, and Rivaille thought it was a huge waste for both herself and the world if she were to spend a lifetime as a peasant. Maybe one day, he would ask if she would like to be Hanji's apprentice. She would be brilliant – she would be brilliant at anything.

However, it was not likely that she would agree. She was _too _protective of that brother of hers. She would never leave his side. Rivaille scoffed. She had come in this morning to tidy up his study (doing a perfect job as always) and had lingered for a while longer than usual.

"Yes?" Rivaille asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Does my brother's presence annoy you?" she asked, her gaze level and calm. No formalities, no small talk and straight to the point. Rivaille didn't mind it – he hated beating around the bush himself.

"Rather," he said, rearranging his rolls of parchment.

"Then why do you always call for him?"

This made Rivaille stop what he was doing. Always call for him? Rivaille didn't remember doing that. He had just off-handedly asked the brat to bring him his breakfast, carry some documents to his study, mop the corridor outside his room…and yesterday, to serve his dinner, rearrange his study's furniture, install a new carpet in his bedroom…

Oh well. It would seem that Mikasa was right, after all.

Thus, much to his own surprise, Rivaille discovered that he did – almost subconsciously – send the idiot running more than anyone else. More baffling was the fact that he had sent the very same idiot running to places near him, and therefore ensuring himself a greater number of headaches. Now, why would he do that? Perhaps he felt that the little oaf needed more training or something.

"He's got too much energy," Rivaille lied, pretending to be busying himself with his documents.

There was a spate of silence from Mikasa, and Rivaille was more apprehensive than he would admit.

"I see," she finally said, her tone of voice seeming to indicate that she was enlightened about something by his reply and demeanor.

_What does she see that I don't?_ Rivaille thought grumpily.

"Eren has too much pride for his own good," Mikasa stated. Rivaille couldn't see where this was going, and he didn't like being outwitted by a servant.

"And I don't want to see him hurt," she continued, wearing a mildly threatening look. She hid it well with a bow. "I humbly ask that you remember that when you ask for him next time."

Rivaille scoffed internally. So this was what this was all about. She didn't have a problem with him calling for Eren, she had a problem with him finding fault with everything he did. Still, there was a particular undertone of _understanding _in her voice which Rivaille unfortunately didn't understand. It felt strongly as if she was challenging him to something.

"Very well," he said, taking up the unknown challenge. "And I ask that you watch your words, young lady. You are skillful and talented, but I will not always tolerate such insolence."

"I've spoken out of place, I'm sorry," she said swiftly, giving a genuine bow this time.

Rivaille's frown deepened as she left. What had he gotten himself into? Whatever it was, he wasn't prepared to lose. He hated losing.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 000000000000000000

Rivaille called for Eren to bring his tea. He realized, a little too late, that he'd done it again. Just as he was about to ask for Armin instead, Eren came stumbling in as usual, balancing the tray precariously between his clumsy hands.

"Don't you drop anything," Rivaille hissed, already starting to worry.

"Yessir!" Eren replied just as a fork slipped onto the carpet with a muffled clatter. Rivaille put his hand to his face and held his tongue as he remembered Mikasa's little talk with him a few hours ago. He sighed irritably and got up, deciding to take the tray himself before he lost all his expensive chinaware. The oaf! How did he survive this long without losing his clumsy head?

He stopped short in his tracks.

Eren was holding the tray so tightly that his knuckles were white, his head bowed and his eyes tightly shut, as if preparing himself for a blow. He looked so miserable and scared, Rivaille actually felt a tug in his chest. Eren was usually so strong and independent, it was only at times like this did he seem to be the vulnerable fifteen year old kid that he was.

_The idiot, he probably thinks I'm going to hit him_, Rivaille sighed. A small, rare grin surfaced on his lips.

_Might as well, then._

He raised his hand in a deliberate manner, watching Eren flinch as he tried to shrink his head in a bit more. Rivaille feigned a slap, but his fingers transformed into a flick on Eren's nose when they landed.

Eren looked so puzzled that even the straight-faced Rivaille couldn't completely hold back his laughter.

"Give that to me," he said, chortling a little as he shook his head.

Eren handed him the tray dumbly, still trapped in a daze. When their fingers brushed, he snapped out of it instantly and began scrambling to pick up the fallen fork. He bowed and apologized profusely, never once looking up from the floor. He looked so annoyed at himself for falling for a trick. His face was redder than usual, and somehow, Rivaille found it rather amusing.

This boy was really one of a kind. If Rivaille had known teasing him was so entertaining, he would have done it long ago. Mikasa was indeed lucky to have him around all the time.

And his fingers were really calloused for a kid his age. What was it like before he came to this mansion? Life must not have treated him kindly. But his hands were still slender and elegant, every bit as lively as Eren himself.

And they were warm.

Wait.

_What…did I just think?_ Rivaille wondered, his smile disappearing.

**Author's Note: The only thing straight about Rivaille is his face! Har har. **

**So Mikasa joins the fight! Oh no, heichou has so many opponents. But don't worry guys, the 'challenge' here isn't exactly what you think it is. And the King has yet to make his appearance – I frankly don't know when he would.**

**And yet again, I haven't drawn the cover. Yay for me. **

**Anyway, if you've enjoyed this chapter, please leave a review! Ashes has 35 followers now, and I'm sooo grateful to you guys for reading this! Also, to the reviewers who were not logged in, here's my reply!**

**To DropDedBeautiful who said:** omg! im loving this AU, and youre doing a fantastic job writing it / i love petra's character, and eren has such a recklessly cute personality uwahhh im just gonna go out on a whim here and say that the "king" might be irvin...because he's the only guy i can think of that is rivaille's superior..RARGH IM REALLY CURIOUS WHO HE IS NOW OMFG! plz update soon! keep up the amazing writing!

_**My reply: Thank you for the review! I love writing about Eren too! As for the king, all I can say is that you'll find out soon! HAHAHA of course I'm not gonna tell you guys who he is yet :D Hope you like this chapter too! I'm working on ch 6**_

**To ArtyMoonSon who said: **Different...preferences...Poor Eren,he doesn't even understand it,but that will probably make for a funny scene. I can't wait to see what kind of coverpage you make. And yes,now I am deadly curious about who the King is, it's confuzzling me! Another brilliant chapter. Is the king gonna be in the next chapter?

_**My reply: Confuzzling – I like this word haha :D You guys will know about the King really soon! LOL I still haven't drawn that coverpage…I'm a horrible person T.T Hope you like this chapter (although the king isn't here yet!) And thank you for the review! :)**_


	6. Advancing Giants

**Ashes to Ashes **

**Chapter 6**

**Advancing Giants**

_Hanji's POV:_

There's been quite a lot of excitement in the usually quiet mansion these few days. With treating Mikasa, nursing her back to health, making fun of Eren and getting prepared for the arrival of the King, I'd almost forgotten my other duties.

I wouldn't really call it a duty, since I'd taken this on because I am puzzled by it. I like anything that puzzles me – there is nothing more entertaining than a challenge to the mind! I'm just Rivaille's physician, actually. But since he couldn't stop me from prying into these disappearances, he's decided to let me help with the investigations. I think that's a good idea. He's way too serious about everything, and difficult problems cannot be solved without a lively mind. And I have the liveliest mind you'll ever find.

I haven't made much progress at all, and most people would be rather frustrated by now (including Rivaille). I find myself even more intrigued by it. This is all so horrifyingly spectacular! People disappearing in the dead of the night, turning up the next day with only half of themselves (literally). Sometimes, the villagers report of terrible screams in the mountains. When they ran down to the source to investigate, all they found was a severed limb or some other truncated body part. Entire crews of ships disappeared out at sea, and when the wreck was washed to shore, all that was left were bloodstains on the deck. Once, the Shinganshina River flowed red with blood from a few broken, unidentifiable bodies. Little settlements deep in the hills vanished completely, leaving only miserable remnants of houses. According to the locals, they looked like they had been razed down to the ground by a hurricane or something. It couldn't have been a hurricane though, because there were no bodies found, only blood on the floor.

In addition, the deaths had no relation to each other whatsoever. Sometimes, they occurred in rapid succession, and sometimes nothing happened for weeks. They were completely random, spreading like a vapid disease over the kingdom. The death toll has climbed to more than 300, are undertones of a widespread panic starting amongst the people. There is no way this can be the work of a single person. If it is an organization, then I must say that they have hidden their tracks remarkably well.

Isn't this fascinating? Rivaille doesn't seem to think so though.

Nevertheless, thinking in circles will get me no where. Rivaille and I have been poring over the latest reports for hours (fruitlessly, may I add). I don't know about him, but I really need a break.

I walk over to his supremely neat shelf and sigh at the books in it. Where is the fun in his life? All the books in it are condensed accounts, records of the latest shipments of goods, and there were a few on the law of the land.

Booooooring!

Didn't he have any _novels_ at all? What's even more boring was the fact that they were all meticulously maintained, without a single speck of dust on them. I roll my eyes at them, really tempted to take a few smaller ones out to juggle (books are perfect for juggling, did you know?) Rivaille would kill me though, and he's just sitting across the room.

My eyes catch something in a corner of the highest shelf. It was an unremarkable small black book, but I was rather amazed to find a thin sheen of dust on it.

Dust? In _Rivaille's_ bookshelf? Ha, he probably couldn't reach it, even with a duster! That clean freak, it must irk him to no end to be the height that he is.

I make a show of reaching for it, getting an annoyed tsk from him.

"You're too tall for a woman," he snaps.

I get ready to make a witty comeback about the general height of _men_, but I see something else to tease him about!

"You have a _storybook_, Rivaille? _Seriously_?"

"I don't," he replies.

"What is this then?" I hop over to him, waving that small black book. "The Advance of the Giants? What is this about, anyway?"

"That's not mine, it's the late Lord Pixis'."

"Ever read it?"

"Childish piece of fiction. About giants fifty metres tall, devouring humans. Doesn't even make a good story."

"Ha! So you _do_ read storybooks!"

"Shut up, Hanji, I'm working."

He is such a prick.

I flip open the book. I'm immediately confronted by a strange map. It was drawn in brown ink, showing a great expanse of land. In the middle of the picture, a three layered fortress were built. There were houses only within the walls. Beyond them, unclothed giants roamed, lumbering after groups of frightened people. Some of them were in the process of swallowing poor souls, while others chewed on dismembered body parts. There were body parts everywhere – strewn over the ground or hanging from the mouths of the giants. Blood glazed the floor, and mayhem dominated the earth.

I shiver a little despite the afternoon heat. What a horrifying story! No parent would read this to their children. There was too much blood, too many broken bodies….

Hey….

…

I look at the map again, paying more attention to the bodies.

…hmmm…

If my brain is starting to draw loose connections from work to children's stories, I must be more tired than I thought.

…

But I don't suppose… …

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000

**Author's Note: *ominous music plays* **

**INCEPTION! Book within a fanfic of a book. So Pixis has a Shingeki no Kyojin novel in his bookshelf, which heichou has read. I am so amused by myself. **

**It's also retarded how I chose to write the most serious chapter from the perspective of the least serious character. Just how my brain works. And did I mention that I love Hanji? She's practically the anime version of me.**

**As usual, the more reviews you leave, the more motivated I'll be to write the next chapter! If you've enjoyed this, please don't hide in a corner and refuse to speak to me! I would really really like to hear what you have to say about the story so far :) And a big thank you to all those who have reviewed! You guys are awesome. **

**The book cover is in progress, I've decided to just draw heichou. My dad is a huge homophobe, and I don't want to die early by drawing a dubious BL picture. **

**You can see the partially complete version here (replace , with . ): keyade,deviantart,com/art/Heichou-Wip-384264389**


	7. Mankind's Strongest (Part 1)

**Ashes to Ashes**

**Chapter 7 **

**Mankind's Strongest (Part 1)**

_8 years ago:_

There is an old saying amongst the Thieves. A true thief never gets lost.

A petite figure clad in dark green crouched on the roof. It was not just any roof, it was the one above the head of the King, in the middle of the Imperial Palace. Any lesser thief would have been hopelessly lost by now, but not this one.

17 year old Rivaille peered beyond the marble tiles, shaking his head slightly when his long hair obscured his vision. He clutched his knife tightly and reached into his pocket for the little bag. It was barely the size of a small pebble, yet it was worth many times its weight in gold.

Alright, so he was a little nervous.

He knew exactly where he was, and he'd been here many times before. The King's chamber wasn't his target – his job would have been nigh impossible if it were. For someone with the reputation of being strongest amongst the Thieves, there was hardly anyone Rivaille didn't dare to cross, but King Irvin was one of them. Rivaille had caught many glances of him when he was prowling around for a specific document, or a with a mission to tweak a certain figure in the royal accounts.

He was blond and tall, and possibly _even_ more serious than Rivaille himself. From the wisps of conversation he had with his advisors that Rivaille had overheard, he was extremely sharp and calculating, and hardly anything escaped his notice. He was far too young to be a King (he was probably not even twenty-five), but his wit compensated for his youth.

Rivaille admired him, to be honest.

His job was to deliver that tiny package to a guard who would be waiting for him along the corridor leading to the King's chambers. He wasn't here to steal. Rivaille could be said to be part of the Thieves, but he was too good to be one. He was more of a spy and saboteur, working for greedy lords and merchants who wanted to manipulate the royal funds, so that more of the King's treasury landed in their pockets. Today, he held a package of the world's most potent poison. Rivaille knew why he was uneasy – amongst all his crooked deeds, he had never killed. He wouldn't be the one adding the powder to some unfortunate nobleman's dinner, but delivering the package for that purpose was the same as murder, was it not?

He concluded that feeling guilty about it wasn't going to give him any benefit.

He scaled down the wall like a rat, hiding just behind the intricately carved stone window. He knew why his client wanted him to go so near to the King's chambers – the closer he was to danger, the safer it became. No one would dream that something so treacherous would occur right at the King's doorstep (literally). He spotted a pair of guards at the doorway, armed to the teeth.

Only one of them was the traitor who would collect his package, and he had no way of knowing which. But he had that planned out.

He raised his hand to his mouth and whistled. It sounded exactly like the chirp of a songbird. Immediately, one of the guards caught the signal. Without warning, said guard raised his axe and struck his companion hard in the back of the head, knocking the poor fellow out. He mentioned for Rivaille to come closer.

It was safe. The King was in his meeting room, speaking to bald old man called Pixis. He won't be coming back anytime soon. Rivaille crept to him and placed the bag in his outstretched hand.

The hand closed on his.

Alarmed, Rivaille pulled back, but his hand was locked in an iron grip. He pulled out his knife in a flash, prepared to stab the man. The guard caught his hand mid-stab. Impossibly, he was even faster than Rivaille.

_It's a trap, _Rivaille realized, a little too late.

Before he knew it, the young thief was given an explosively painful blow to the head. He vaguely registered himself being pinned to the wall with his hands held fast behind him. The black veil which he had worn to cover his face was torn off, and he felt chilling sting of the axe's sharp edge at the nape of his neck.

He was in shock. He was the fastest in the underworld, and this title was not easily earned. How did this mere Palace guard overpower him?

"You're a lot shorter than I thought," said a wry voice behind him.

Rivaille held his tongue. Speaking would land him in greater trouble than he was already in. His eyes darted around, looking for a chance to escape. He chanced a peek backwards at the guard.

What in the name of…?

Well, the guard did give him a pretty hard blow. It must have interfered with his vision.

He shook his head and looked back again.

…

…

…

No matter how many times he looked, it was still the _King's _mildly amusedface staring back at him.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rivaille paced in his cell, more disappointed with himself than afraid for his life. Well, to save his pride, at least it was the _King _who caught him. It was not everyday that common thieves would be nabbed by the King himself, was it?

There was the sound of an iron door opening. Brilliant light flooded the once pitch black room, completely blinding the young thief. Rivaille waited for his vision to adjust. Two men entered.

_Oh, it's the King again. Hmph. Don't tell me he came to hang me himself. _

"Ready for the noose?" the King asked, sounding morbidly cheerful. Behind him, a bald man approached. Rivaille recognized him – he was General Pixis, whom the King had _supposedly_ been speaking to earlier.

Rivaille refused to answer. So this was how it was going to end, huh? Strangely, he didn't mind. He had nothing to live for, anyway.

"Still as insolent as ever, I see," said the King.

"Insolent?" Rivaille questioned, his voice dead. "Like I care what you think. All you do is sit comfortably and grow fat while we're starving in the streets."

The General stiffened at his audacity, drawing his blade. The King merely chortled in genuine amusement. He held up a hand, and Pixis sheathed his sword.

"Looks like you're not ready to die," the King said, his voice gentler than Rivaille expected.

_What? So you'll spare me?_ Rivaille thought sarcastically.

"I've heard about you. Strongest of the Thieves, aren't you? I wanted to see for myself, so I sent you on a little errand to deliver this," the King held up the small bag. He began to laugh again. "It's just flour, you know!"

_WHAT?!_

For the first time in a long while, the clever thief didn't know what to think. He was not even angry, he was hurt. His pride was hurt. He had been neatly and entirely outwitted by the King. And he had never been outwitted before.

"Hanging you would waste my efforts, wouldn't it?" King Irvin continued, his voice suddenly losing its teasing edge.

Of course. No one went to such extends to capture a famous criminal just to execute them painlessly. Rivaille narrowed his eyes skeptically, wondering what was to become of him. He was extremely calm about it. Maybe the King will have him drawn and quartered for the other thieves to see, or maybe he'll be flogged to death in the town square…

"Work for me," the King said.

Rivaille hardly heard it. He decided that he didn't want to believe a word of it. So the King was going to make this more difficult, huh? He sat in his dark corner, praying that the King would just kill him and stop tormenting him with these false threads of hope. He turned his head and pretended to sleep. Maybe they would go away.

"Listen up, scrum!" Rivaille hardly flinched when the General struck him with his lead baton. Growing up with the Thieves, he was used to pain.

"Alright Pixis," the King said. He turned to Rivaille, his expression severe.

"You're lucky that you've got talent, or your head would be gone hours ago," he began, waiting for it to sink in. Rivaille gave no indication that it did. Looking at the King would give away his surprise. He continued pretending that he wasn't listening.

"Starting tomorrow you'll report to the Guard," the King declared. As was with King Irvin, that was all he had to say. He turned his back and began to leave.

Just as he was about to step out of the cell, he looked back.

"I'll have Pixis watch your every move. Try anything funny, and I'll have you drawn and quartered," he said. He left in majestic strides befitting his station, followed closely by the bald old General. Rivaille was left in the unlocked cell.

He was far too tired to walk out.

What he was tired of exactly, was the world. It was too strange, too full of ironies for him to begin to understand. It was as if all he believed in had been abruptly turned upside down. It went against everything Rivaille had ever taught himself, growing up as a thief.

The King had done an impossible deed – to give a highly wanted criminal a new life. Rivaille found that he didn't have the energy to figure that out. Perhaps he never would.

There is an old saying amongst the Thieves. They say that a true thief never gets lost.

Well, Rivaille was rather lost.

**Author's Note: **

**ASHES TO ASHES IS NOW IN CHINESE! Hell-Butterfly (do visit her FF page!) has done an absolutely amazing job at translating it, and I'm so happy I don't even know what to say...I swear, it's better than the English one! So if you're Chinese and would rather read this in Mandarin, please visit this page:**

**tieba,baidu,com/p/2450751637 (replace , with .)**

**About this chapter:**

**It's full of deja vus! Besides the one about lost thieves, there is another line that you guys should have seen in an earlier chapter, if you've read carefully :) Let me know in a review if you've spotted it! Come, just humour me. ****Btw, guests can leave reviews too. I'll answer all guest reviews in the subsequent chapter. **

**And so the legendary King appears. Alright, so he is Irvin…lots of people have guessed that already! :) This chapter has a part 2, which would be up soon! Oh btw, I've updated the cover image. For now, it's my semi-complete painting of Rivaille…I'll finish it soon and update the cover as well! **

**Hope you've enjoyed it up to here and don't forget to leave a review! I'll be so happy if you tell me what you think about it thus far :) **


	8. Mankind's Strongest (Part 2)

**Ashes to Ashes **

**Chapter 8**

**Mankind's Strongest (Part 2)**

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000

And thus began a new life for our young lord-to-be. To his own surprise, Rivaille trained rather dutifully and never tried to leave. Honestly, one encounter with the fearsome King was more than enough for him. He didn't fancy being drawn and quartered, and besides, he was good at what the King made him do.

A talented man would shine anywhere, and Rivaille was the _shining_ example of that. In barely two years, he was no longer the strongest of the Thieves but of the Palace Guard. He became _Corporal_ Rivaille, much to the envy of the other men. At 19, he was the youngest (and shortest) corporal the Guard had ever seen.

No one dared to oppose him though, unless they wanted to taste his boot. He had…quite a reputation for his methods of demanding obedience.

And strangely, Rivaille found himself very suited to this life. For the first time, he earned his keep with his own hands, and without causing misfortune to others. For the first time too, he felt a swell of pride different from his usual haughty arrogance. His life was finally good for something, after being completely pointless for so long. Rivaille would never admit it, but he held an unspeakable gratitude to the King for giving him a sense of honour. It was a period of time Rivaille would later remember as the calmest days of his life.

There was just one problem.

It was the King's _preferences_. The young corporal knew about them, because he had to experience them first hand.

At first, King Irvin stood from afar, watching him train. Rivaille thought it was to be expected – he was a criminal, after all, and the King probably wanted to personally keep an eye on him. In the evenings, he would accompany the King on a walk through the royal gardens upon his request, listening to him talk about simple things like the stars and the fireflies which hovered around them. These daily meetings were very private – Rivaille suspected only Pixis knew about them. And that was because he had told Pixis. Rivaille wondered, in the beginning, why the King would choose him of all people (the court was full of elegant ladies) to be beside him in the rare times he didn't need to act a King.

"The lilies have grown again," the King remarked one day with his tranquil smile. Rivaille knew that it was a smile that had many ladies swooning.

"Indeed, Your Majesty," Rivaille agreed, keeping his distance.

The King turned and looked at him for a long time. Rivaille kept his head carefully bowed.

"Call me Irvin," he said, coming closer.

"I can't, Your Majesty. It is not befitting."

He could hear a soft laugh from the King. His laughs were rare, and they were almost always given to Rivaille.

"Alright then," he said. There was a short pause as he looked into the distance.

"They smell like you," he said, not looking at the corporal. Rivaille stayed silent, and the King took that as an acknowledgement.

He moved closer, until his outstretched hand could brush Rivaille's long hair. His fingers ran through it slowly, sensually. Rivaille stood stock still, looking at the ground, betraying nothing.

They stayed this way for a long while, until King Irvin finally began walking again.

"It is midnight, Your Majesty. It would be good for you to rest," Rivaille announced, not following him. _And the Queen must be getting worried, _he wanted add, but did not dare.

"So it is," the King agreed, his calm smile conveying a kind of wistfulness that would make even flowers sigh. And so they parted, Rivaille as stiff as ever, walking away with the King's gaze following his footsteps.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000

And things stayed that way, balancing precariously and on the very edge of turning into something drastically different. The King called Rivaille for various matters more often than may be explained on normal terms, and whispers began to drift through the Palace. As for the young corporal, he obeyed in a professional manner, never expressing his rejection.

Then came one night the King didn't call for him to walk with him in the gardens, and Rivaille found it rather unusual. A little unsettled, he went there anyway, only to find the King already there, gazing at the lilies.

"Rivaille," the King beckoned, noticing him. Rivaille had no choice but to approach.

_He is drunk, _he realized, the moment he came near.

"This bud," the King said, pointing to a lily yet to bloom. "Will it ever open?" Drunk he may be, but his voice still lucid, and full of weariness.

"It will not, Your Majesty," Rivaille replied, feeling cruel. The bud had frozen in the night, and a thin sheen of fine ice clung to it. "Some flowers never bloom."

He had barely finished his sentence when he felt a rough shove. His back hit the ground hard. The King had always been faster and stronger than him, and now, he was right above Rivaille, his expression full of pain.

"What if I force it to, then?" he demanded, grabbing hold of Rivaille's collar. His voice was raspy and tortured.

Rivaille stayed still, waiting for an opportune moment to speak.

"Then it will die, Your Majesty." He waited for the words to sink in.

It was a long time before the King responded, but the barely visible glisten in his eyes told Rivaille that he understood.

"Then I will leave it be," he said, touching Rivaille's hair one last time. "No one should kill something so beautiful."

He leaned in closer, and Rivaille braced himself. However, he simply inhaled the young man's scent, as if trying to remember it before a long parting. And then he walked away, and Rivaille watched him, filled not with disgust, but with respect.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000

It came to a close, after that. Pixis gently (but firmly) reminded the King that he had a Queen and a country to govern. Rivaille cut his hair so short that it covered barely more than half his head. That length it stayed for good. He decided that it was a more suitable hairstyle for a grown man, and he wanted to make things as easy as possible for his King.

Pixis was getting ready for retirement, and it was thus decided that Rivaille would follow him to his estate. Keeping him near the King would lead to both their demises, and Pixis knew that well. The King agreed, but his hands were clenched throughout the solemn discussion. He did wish Rivaille a prosperous life ahead and a beautiful wife, although he did so without looking at him. So on a dreary morning, the old General and the young corporal set off into the mountains, heading for a county hundreds of miles away from the Capital city.

Rivaille was appointed as the Captain of the Guard, but it was soon proven that he was capable of much more than that. Pixis was ailing and had no heir, so he entrusted more and more of his duties to the young man. Rivaille completed them with great diligence, aptitude and efficiency, and the old manor was run better than it had been for the past century. He did nothing that would be frowned upon by the eyes of the law, and yet the estate flourished quickly. So when the General was on his death bed, fighting a losing battle with his failing heart, it was Rivaille whom he chose to inherit his legacy. Amongst many things, he entrusted the young man with a highly important task.

"Never let any harm befall that boy," he said, his chest heaving with the effort. "I cannot fulfill my duty of raising him, so you must."

Rivaille knew enough about the orphaned 10 year old Armin to realize the magnitude of this task. But he will take it on, just as he had taken everything else on. Until the time is right, Armin will completely safe be under his protection.

And thus old Pixis breathed his last breath in peace, and the young ex-thief became Lord Rivaille.

**Author's Note: And so ends the life story of Rivaille! No, I'm not getting carried away and this story is still Rivaille x Eren. I feel so bad about Irvin but he had to go…but you have no idea how amusing it is, to see that so many people suspected Irvin to compete with Rivaille over Eren…when it should be Eren competing with Irvin over Rivaille. HAHA! :D About Armin...well, I'm not telling! :D**

**That aside, I would like to mention again that Ashes to Ashes is now available in Chinese. The absolutely amazing translation was done by Hell-Butterfly (do go visit her FF page!) and can be seen here: **

**tieba,baidu,com/p/2450751637 (replace , with .)**

**Until next time! I'll stop writing nonsensical fillers and get on with the main ship...I promise you'll see the RiRen you've been waiting for in chap 9. Happy?**


	9. The Cupboard

**Ashes to Ashes **

**Chapter 9**

**The Cupboard **

**Author's Note: **Usually, I won't write a note at the beginning, but I'm too eager to announce that the cover page for Ashes to Ashes is done! It's already updated, if you haven't noticed. It took me more than 20 hours and my hand is still numb lol…

You can see the full version of it on my deviantart, just google: **Mankind's Strongest Keyade Deviantart**and make sure the artist is called Keyade, since there may be more than one painting with the same name on dA.

And now that my shameless showing off is over, here's the story you've come here to read :D

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000

Eren was in deep shit. As always.

He had come in with good intentions, though. Seeing as the lord was extremely particular about cleanliness, he had decided to mop the kitchen voluntarily while Jean was at the market. He hummed a merry tune to himself as he did so, happy simply because he had managed not to spill a single drop of Lord Rivaille's breakfast tea when he served it this morning. Maybe he was finally getting better at this.

The first few days at the mansion were utter hell. Eren almost regretted offering to work here, since he couldn't do a thing right. He made a daily mess of the lord's rooms, earning more death glares and sharp pinches in the ear than all the other servants put together. But because Lord Rivaille called him so often, even Eren began pick these tasks up slowly. But after three weeks, he could complete most chores without the lord irritably demanding for him to re-do them.

Nowadays, the lord would sometimes give him simple accounts to transcribe or arrange (Eren had learnt some basic reading from Hannes, the tavern owner) when Armin was busy with other things. He would sit beside the lord at his desk for the whole day, poring over the columns of figures. Eren was very apprehensive at first – being in such close proximity to the formidable lord made him rather nervous – but he soon grew used to the other man's sullen presence.

Eren often wondered why the lord didn't call for someone much faster, like Mikasa. But he didn't mind at all. It was actually quite peaceful – even enjoyable to do something other than manual labour for once. On days like these, the lord was also in a visibly better mood, although Eren couldn't comprehend why. Sometimes, they would share quiet meals together, and the lord would grumble a little about the investigations that he was engaged in, more to himself than anyone else.

Well, if the lord would talk to him, maybe he wasn't so hopeless after all –

A resounding clang shattered his thoughts.

_OUCH!_

A few drops of something scalding hot had hit his back. Eren looked back in alarm.

Oh shit.

The pot of soup that Jean had gotten up before dawn this morning to brew was all over the floor, bubbling angrily, as if it was outraged at being wasted like that. Eren had tipped it over a second ago, and now Jean's hours of hard work were down the drain. Eren gulped, feeling beads of sweat forming on his brow.

Jean would _butcher_ him.

To make matters worse, Eren thought he heard the side door the mansion opening.

Jean was back! Eren was dead.

The brunette would, on hind sight, realize that it would be much wiser to stay and apologize. But right now, his life was the priority. He flung his mop down and fled the kitchen, gone before the mop even hit the floor. As he sped up the stairs, he could hear a spate of terrifying silence as Jean processed the scene before him.

"EEEEEERRRREEEEEN!" came an enraged bellow from downstairs.

It sounded non-human, and the poor boy almost tripped. Pale faced, he managed to make it to the third storey.

"COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE RAT!"

Eren ran down the corridor faster than he thought himself capable, not even looking where he was going. Unfortunately for him, Lord Rivaille was just coming out of his study, ready to take a short walk outside for fresh air. Eren careened right into his chest with great force. They landed in a tangle of limbs and tumbled a little down the hallway, until eventually, Eren felt himself being flattened beneath the surprisingly heavy man.

And just as he was starting to realize that he was caught in a rather _compromising_ position, Lord Rivaille saved both of them from the enormous embarrassment by rolling off gracefully.

"I WILL SKIN YOU AND FEED YOU TO THE DOGS!" Jean made sure there was no time to feel embarrassed anyway.

In his panic, Eren grabbed the first thing he saw, which was the lord.

"Save me!" he wailed.

"What is this nonsense?" the lord demanded, trying in vain to push the terrified boy away, and still a little dazed from the fall.

"I'LL CASTRATE YOU AND MINCE IT!" Jean's footsteps were getting nearer, and Eren clung on to the lord more desperately. He buried his face in the lord's chest, as if that would make him invisible to the insanely mad chef.

Then things began to move.

Eren didn't really know what happened, he saw Rivaille reach for the door of the cupboard just beside them. He was given a rather violent shove. He felt his head hitting something hard with a dull thud, and the next minute, he was shrouded in darkness and the musty smell of old wood.

"What –" Eren began, disorientated. A hand was slapped roughly over his mouth.

"Shut up," the lord hissed.

Eren decided to register his bearings instead. It seemed that he was in the strangest situation indeed. He was in a cupboard, which was well and good, but implausibly, the _lord_ was also in it. The space was empty save for a few old boxes, but it was a hiding place barely large enough for one person. Now that there were _two_ people inside, there was no choice but to practically adhere to one another if they wanted to co-exist. Eren was somewhat half-sitting on a box with his back pressed against the wood, while the lord was leaning over him awkwardly, his face so close that Eren could feel his breath tickling his ear.

Having just run up several flights of stairs, Eren's heart was pounding. However, the fact that the lord landed with a knee in between his thighs wasn't doing anything to calm it down. The worst part of this all was that there wasn't even sufficient space to move that knee somewhere else, although the lord seemed to be frantically trying to do so. This only resulted in some more…unwanted contact. After a few seconds of mutual struggling, there seemed to be an unspoken consensus to just stay still, or Jean would notice the disturbance.

Thus came and went the longest seconds of Eren's life as they both held their breath, waiting for the mad chef to pass. They heard his footsteps linger near the cupboard, and his mutters of 'I swear he came this way' before he finally gave up and retreated to his lair (the kitchen).

His footsteps gradually faded to nothing. Just as the lord was going to open the cupboard with extreme relief, the sound of someone walking returned.

"Tsk, he came back," the lord muttered, shrinking quickly back into his awkward stoop. Eren squeezed his eyes shut – the lord's knee had brushed his crotch again.

But unbeknownst to the two extremely discomfited individuals in the cupboard, someone else had witnessed the entire scene from start to finish.

Hanji had been walking out of her lab around that time as well. She had hurriedly concealed herself behind her door when the action started. Now that they were stuck in that piece of wood with no way to glance outside, Hanji stomped out loudly, knowing that they would mistake those heavy footsteps for the chef's. Then, glancing around to make sure no one saw her, she flipped the little lock on the outside of the cupboard, such that it could no longer be opened from within.

Sporting the most sinister smile anyone had ever seen (of course, there was no one around to see it), she stomped down in the direction of the kitchen. Once safely out of the range of hearing, the good-for-nothing scientist rolled around on the floor, laughing until she wept.

She had been wanting to do that for a long time. They wouldn't be stuck inside forever – picking the lock from inside shouldn't be too difficult for the former thief Rivaille. However, in the dark, he might have to fumble quite a bit before he could find a suitable lock pick. She knew that such fumbling would result in much accidental touching, as well. Rivaille would _eviscerate_ her later when he finally got out, but it would be worth it.

She wished she could see what went on inside, but for now, she was content with wishing the both of them a pleasant time in that tiny space.

**Author's Note (Again!) : So it takes me 9 chapters to finally get to the point. I should quit school now, I'm obviously not cut out to be a lawyer. **

**Speaking of lawyering…Rivaille is such a good lawyer. SnK ep 15 was an interesting court session…now, wouldn't it be great if I could just randomly kick the teeth out of anyone that got on my nerves in Court? **

**(You didn't see that.)**

**Anyway, I shall leave them in this dubious little cupboard until next time! Do leave a review if you've liked it! :) **


	10. Always Blame Everything Else

**Ashes to Ashes**

**Chapter 10**

**Always Blame Everything Else**

The moment Rivaille closed the cupboard door on them, he regretted it.

What was he even doing? He was the lord of the house, for goodness' sake – he didn't need to hide! He could just order Jean to terminate his quest to murder Eren, or he could just let the chef give the stupid kid a good pounding. How were the affairs of servants any of his business, anyway?

At most, he could have thrown Eren in there and left. But the kid had clung to him, genuinely panicked and so afraid. This drew out within Rivaille's cold heart some deeply buried instinct to protect. When the boy put his face against Rivaille's chest, his messy hair tickled Rivaille's neck. The lord caught a whiff of his scent. He smelled like firewood, and like the forest. Without any thinking, Rivaille shoved the boy inside a cupboard located conveniently within reach. He had no idea why he climbed in as well. He blamed it on Jean, who was bellowing so furiously _anyone_ would want to hide.

Besides, the stupid kid wouldn't understand what was going on and make a racket inside anyway, right? Rivaille decided that he was there for the purpose of shutting him up.

Now, the nobleman was caught in an odd predicament. He was well aware that he was unacceptably close to Eren, so much so that they were actually breathing down each other's necks. Moreover, his knee was stuck at a most inconvenient spot (which he could feel getting warmer). The scent of the woods was much stronger now, and it was filling his head. Subconsciously, Rivaille leaned closer to inhale more of the captivating smell, before realizing what he was doing and stopping himself.

Maybe his mind was still a little befuddled from the tumble he took just now. Once Jean left, he would immediately leave the cupboard. The fresh air would clear his mind.

You could imagine Rivaille's utter horror when he heard a tiny click, not perceptible but to the sharpest ears. Had Jean accidentally _locked_ the cupboard?! Rivaille shook the door hard, but it wouldn't budge.

"It's stuck?" Eren questioned, sounding panicked.

"Locked," Rivaille replied curtly. He didn't even know what to think.

This was the worst situation he had ever been in. And that was really saying something, because Rivaille had been in many life-threatening situations as a thief.

It was then that he heard the faintest of giggles coming from far away.

HANJI!

Rivaille was almost sure that the sheer force of his fury would cause the cupboard to explode, if not for the fact that it _didn't_. He could think of so many ways to dissect her, he didn't even know where to begin. He settled with vehemently wishing the chandelier in the hall would drop on her. Or maybe she could accidentally roll into his sword collection and be impaled while laughing herself silly.

But right now wasn't the good time to plot murder, for there were many things demanding his attention. For one, they needed to get out now. He could hear Eren's breathing getting faster by the minute. His own breathing was quickening too, and his heartbeat along with it.

_Lack of air, _Rivaille stubbornly told himself. They've been there for three minutes now, and it was getting stuffy. He was feeling rather warm too, and it seemed to turn warmer every time Eren's breath brushed his neck. He shifted uncomfortably, only to accidentally lose his balance in the small space. He caught himself before he could land flat on Eren, but it wasn't fast enough to prevent his lips from scraping the boy's nose. The point of contact tingled so much that it was almost painful.

No, it was something else that was causing the pain. A strange desire…for what? Rivaille didn't know himself.

Need…to…get out.

He was feeling positively hot now, and more warmth was radiating from the body pressed beneath his. He could feel the boy's erratic heartbeat and was sure Eren could feel his as well.

What was happening?

They were so close, but why was the urge to go closer so uncontrollable? Eren was tilting his face as far as possible from his, exposing a stretch of white neck. Suddenly, leaving the cupboard didn't seem quite so important. He felt a little drunk, although he took no alcohol. Rivaille tried to school his increasingly murky brain to think of something else, but it wasn't working at all. The blood just wasn't going to his head.

"L-lord Rivaille?"

He heard that confused query, but none of it went into his brain. Vaguely, he registered that the boy was starting to notice his strange behavior. Eren was struggling a little now, trying his best to put as much distance between them as possible. It wasn't sufficient to snap the lord out of his daze. If anything, it looked like a challenge to him. He put a hand on either side of the boy and drove that knee further in as he leaned closer, narrowing his eyes like a predator.

It was then that Eren gave a little _squeak _of panic, snapping him abruptly and rudely out of his...invigorated state.

Oh god, what had he just intended to do?

_What_ had he just intended to do? What had he just intended to _do_? Now that his senses were back, Rivaille was more than a little horrified.

Fortunately for him, he was _Rivaille_, and there was no man alive with sharper reflexes. The moment he spotted a loose nail right beside Eren's ear, he knew that he could pass _that_ off as just an act of reaching for a lock pick. Rivaille was never so glad that Eren wasn't as smart as his sister.

"Shut up, or Jean will be back," he told Eren, dislodging the nail with a sharp tug. As he directed the nail expertly through the simple lock, he cursed internally. He was confused and uncomfortable, and that disrupted his…instincts…a little. _That was all_. He was going to blame this completely and entirely on the lack of air. No, he was going to blame Hanji.

That woman! Making daily stupid, unwarranted jokes about himself and Eren was irritating enough – but attempting to actually make those retarded assumptions reality was going much too far. Now he knew exactly to what extent her mind has rotted.

He knew what he was going to do. He'll get someone to clean up Hanji's laboratory. And maybe rearrange some of her weird chemicals. Ha! Hanji would be livid when she walks into the clean place, with all her little potions missing. She might even tear her hair out. It was such a perfect revenge – Rivaille congratulated himself for thinking it up.

To his great relief, the door opened. Rivaille practically rolled out of it – so eager he was to get far away from Eren. The cool air had never been sweeter. But irritatingly, his entire person still tingled, and he still had an uncomfortable weight in a particular part of his person.

When Eren clambered out, he could see that the boy's face was flushed a delicate pink as he stuttered his thanks. Rivaille shook his head violently.

He just needed more fresh air. More fresh air!

**Author's Note: !HEY GUEST REVIEWERS!**

**(ok I got your attention now) Because of the number of guest reviews, I've replied them in a review. Just to the reviews page for Ashes to Ashes and look for my reply! Should be right near the top :) Thanks for reviewing! I was so delighted to see so many reviews this morning…you guys really make my day :)**

**I feel a little stuffy writing this…I've hidden cupboards before, mostly during hide and seek games as a kid. There was once I just couldn't open it, and you have no idea how panicked I was LOL. My mom saved me…and laughed her head off. Now I see why it was funny. **

**If you don't know what the 'uncomfortable weight' was in the 3rd last paragraph…you are a failure of a fujoshi, you. Go stare at the wall and reflect on your horrible fangirl-hood. **


	11. To be Selfish

**Ashes to Ashes**

**Chapter 11**

**To be Selfish**

_Mikasa's POV:_

The King is here.

The sleepy city of Shinganshina is awake today. Regal violet banners emblazoned with the royal crest graced the streets and fresh blossoms lined the pavements. Beyond the flowers, thousands of curious citizens gathered, dressed in festive colours. The King has come, and this calls for a celebration.

We have risen early this morning to await his arrival. The lord has gone to the city gates with his entire Guard to escort the entourage here. I have been told to make sure everything is in perfect order. It is perfect already, unless Eren runs around and knocks something over again. I've told him to stay in the kitchen with Jean until the banquet tonight. At least, if he makes a mess, the King won't see it.

I know Lord Rivaille won't call him anyway. Knowing the tendencies the King has, the lord probably wants him to see as little of Eren as possible. The best way to avoid competition is by hiding, is it not? Yes, I think I know more of what went on between my brother and the lord than they do themselves. It's as inevitable as the sun rising from the East, and yet the lead roles of the play are completely clueless.

In fact, every servant in the house can sense something growing. Some time ago (after we heard of the cupboard incident from an extremely proud Hanji), Armin and Lady Petra have come to me on separate occasions, asking me worriedly if I was heartbroken. Isn't Eren your lover? they asked. And they were sorry that this is happening, as if it is their fault. Maybe they should dissuade the lord?

I appreciate their concern, I really do. But they've misinterpreted our relationship, as well as my apparent hostility to Lord Rivaille. Eren is the most important person in my life, and I would do anything for him. It's precisely because of this that I want to make sure he can find happiness with someone whom I trust. I do love him and I can very well see us together. But if he chooses someone else who can give him more than I can, I will step aside with no hesitation. I've challenged the lord just to test this, and as of now, I am happy with what I see. But if he _ever_ dares to hurt Eren, lord or not, he will have to answer to me.

And no, I don't care if they're both men. I only care for Eren's happiness.

And Eren…oh he's always so easy to read! He doesn't realize it at all, but all he talks about to me is the lord. About how much he knows, about how much he's traveled, about how amazing his swordsmanship is. I feel a little jealous sometimes – but I have to agree. And I noticed how he refuses to tell me anything about the cupboard on the third floor, and how his ears will turn pink if I press too hard. His ears turn pink when the lord speaks to him, too. Or even when he just passes by.

My little brother is growing up, isn't he? I'll need to let go soon.

The sound of trumpets in the gardens bring me back to the present. The servants of the house scurry to form two neat aisles along the red carpet to the house, and I follow suit. Eren appears – as usual, he's the most frenzied and untidy of the lot. He's obliged to turn up for a short while to welcome the King before disappearing for the rest of the day. He falls in line beside me, and I straighten his hair and collar.

I take back what I said. He's still a kid.

The sound of many hooves approaching grew louder as the entourage approaches. It is not large for a royal delegation – twenty individuals at most. The King is astride a fine black mare, flanked by a knight on each side. Sir Reiner and Sir Berthodt, I've heard. Their names are known throughout the country, but this is the first time I've seen them. The King seems young and he's wearing a gentle smile. He had a head of golden hair, of the same shade as Armin's. He is speaking to Lord Rivaille with a familiarity that hints of a deep friendship.

As they canter past, we drop to a kneel. Eren is a few seconds slow (as to be expected), stumbling as he tried to bow. However, that got the King's attention.

I stiffen, eying him warily. Eren has realized that he's being scrutinized. I can tell he's starting to get nervous.

"Ah, he is a new servant, is he not?" the King asks Lord Rivaille.

"Indeed, Your Majesty," the lord replies, his voice unreadable. "He came to my mansion a month ago."

"Oh? His face is good to look at. Did you get him specially for me?"

What?! Are they treating him like some prized animal on display?! Eren squirms a little too – he's been informed to be careful about things like this. I've expected as much, but I will not tolerate this! I'm ready to jump in to salvage the situation with the most desperate of measures.

I am rather taken aback when _the lord_ beat me to it.

"I'm afraid not, Your Majesty. I thought his face pleasant too, so I got him for _myself_." He emphasizes the last word, and Eren's ears are now the colour of ripe tomatoes. I tell myself to relax a little. And it's funny how threatening the short lord looked when he said that. Even funnier is the fact that he actually still believes he's lying to save Eren's skin.

Speak of living in denial, hmph.

"Care if I borrow him for one night?" the King asks, a smile apparent in his voice.

Ha, I see it now! His Majesty was just teasing all along, but the lord is too defensive to catch it. I can't control my smile. The King winked at me, delighting in the shared joke.

"I'm a selfish man, Your Majesty," the lord says through gritted teeth, still not getting it. "I'd rather not share my…possessions." He hooked a finger under Eren's chin. "Isn't that right?"

If Eren's ears get any redder, they might fall off.

"Y-yes!" he stutteres, looking so embarrassed I'm a little afraid he'll start crying. He's trying to play along, but oh, he's so bad at pretending!

At this, the two knights look ready to explode with the sheer pressure of suppressed laughter. King decides not to torment them anymore and chortles heartily, thumping the surprised lord on the back.

"Oh Rivaille," he laughs. "You're so serious about everything!"

The Lord folds his arms in a huff, slightly annoyed. "So are you, Your Majesty," he mutters sulkily. Even so, he is visibly relieved.

I am so amused by it all. And a little saddened. I've realized that day in which I'll have to share Eren with the lord is growing closer…

The lot of them leave in light spirits after that. The moment they disappear beyond the great doors of the mansion, Eren collapses to the floor in a heap of utmost embarrassment, his face in his hands.

And the servants and guards are so beside themselves with laughter, I'm certain the King can hear it. They approach Eren, congratulating him teasingly.

"Stop laughing, Mikasa!" he yells at me, trying to dig a hole in the ground. His ears are still as red as ever.

**Announcement (please read!): **

**BRIBERY TIME! I'm better at drawing than writing, so I've decided to illustrate a short manga (10-15 pgs) of a scene in Ashes to Ashes (of your choice, by poll) when/if I hit 100 reviews OR 200 followers/faves. It's like a kiriban haha. There's still some way to go, but I hope we'll get there! Do let me know what you think of this! :) Readers not logged in can comment too. **

And as a shameless by the way advertisement, you can find my art on **deviantart**, **tumblr** or**pixiv**. I am called **Keyade** everywhere.

**As usual, GUEST REVIEWS are replied in a review, just go to the reviews page to see my reply. I've been so happy over the last few days because of the many wonderful reviews! Thank you so much to all who reviewed, it's people like you who make me feel motivated to update at the speed which I do :) **

**Until next time! :)**


	12. Unexpected Things Come Together

**Ashes to Ashes **

**Chapter 12**

**Unexpected Things Come Together **

_Armin's POV:_

Evening came fast, as it always does on particularly busy days. It seems that we've barely started preparing, and yet it is almost time for the banquet. Lady Petra has joined the lord in receiving the King, so they've put Jean in charge. He's deathly afraid of Eren wrecking something at this critical moment, so he's told me to take him to the dining room, where we can begin setting up the table. Jean will be fine, Mikasa is there to assist, and even Marco has turned up to help. The King comes every other year, and we've never been unable to manage.

Eren is a lot slower than me at setting out the plates and utensils, but at least he's not breaking anything. In fact, he's learning rather fast. Give it a few years and he might just be as good as Mikasa at everything. I mention that to him, and he gives me his radiant grin.

He is such a lovely person. I know it's a little early to say this, but I am not blind to the subtle affairs of this house. I can make a good guess of what will soon unfurl in the days to come – it is already thick in the air, like the scent of blossoms in spring! Eren will give our sullen Lord Rivaille much happiness, and for that, I am happy too.

Ah, it's time for me to make a call to the drawing room, where the nobles are currently being entertained by artistes. I'll tell them that dinner shall be served in half an hour, and inform Lord Rivaille of the progress of work around the house.

As I reach the elaborate door of the prettiest room of the house, I pause, surprised at the lack of music coming from within. Has the entertainment ended so soon? I needn't have worried about making a rude interruption, then. I place my ear at the keyhole, making sure that it was a suitable moment to enter.

"How has Armin been doing?" I heard the King say.

I leap back in surprise.

His Majesty, mentioning _me_? True, he has always been quite fond of me on his visits (in a kindly way that adults treat children, please do _not_ misunderstand) and he likes to ruffle my hair. But I'm just a servant! Why would the King ask about me?

"He's healthy and well, Your Majesty. I've given him another tutor, like you've instructed me to," Lord Rivaille replies. This is true – I am the only servant whom Lord Rivaille wanted educated in history, mathematics, the sciences and literature. Hanji teaches me the sciences, whereas Miss Rico (who came every other day) instructs me in the arts. I've always thought that it was because the lord wanted me in a better position to help him with his work. It is most surprising to hear that the _King _was behind this, of all people.

Why? I am just an orphan child, picked up by the late Lord Pixis as a infant. I am hardly important enough to have the concern of the King!

"Is he any good at his lessons?" the King questions.

Lady Petra answers, chuckling softly. "Good does not do it justice, Your Majesty. We would call his intelligence astonishing, if not for the fact that it is to be expected of someone of his birth."

M-me? I am beginning to understand less and less of this conversation. I realize, belatedly, that I shouldn't even be listening, but I can't help it.

"Ah," says the King, sounding pleased. His voice suddenly drops to a low hush, and I have to strain to hear.

"There's no one who has uncovered his identity, as of yet?" he asks, his tone turning serious.

"No one, except Physician Hanji," the lord confirms. "I don't know how she did, but that woman is as sharp as a tack. But she is not stupid enough to proclaim that, Your Majesty."

The King seems satisfied at this, and there is the faint sound of a chair creaking as he leans back. He is silent for a moment, as if contemplating something heavy. He has always been serious, as befitting a King.

"Rivaille, I know this is sudden, but I've finally decided," he begins. I lean in closer against my better judgment.

"I will take Armin back when I leave."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000

Sasha was rather happy, if for nothing but the fact that she was free to eat whatever she pleased.

Lord Rivaille had given her more money than she needed for this expedition (just in case she ran into trouble of any sort) and she was determined to use it all to eat as much as she possibly could. So here she was, cantering along on a newly-bought horse, snacking on a variety of biscuits as she went. They were the specialty of Trost, and they were fit for a King.

Speaking of the King, Lord Rivaille had thought it fit to buy first grade horses in preparation for His Majesty's arrival, but such horses weren't always available in Shinganshina. So after much deliberation (and to Sasha's extreme delight), he had decided to send Sasha to the neighbouring city of Trost to purchase them. The two cities were separated by a small mountain and were three days' ride from each other.

To reach Trost, one had to take a winding, slightly unsafe pass through the mountainous landscape, made even more hazardous by half a dozen mares. This was no challenge to Sasha, however. Lazy she might be, but she was as fast and skilled as any. The lord knew that and tolerated her whims (most of the time).

The sun was beginning to abate, and soon, she won't be able to see well enough to navigate the tricky mountain road. There was a clearing amongst the rocks and brambles a little way ahead, and Sasha headed towards it to settle for the night. It was well sheltered from the dreadful night winds – they would be fine there. She tied the horses to a sturdy thicket and watered them, and it wasn't long before she was fast asleep.

She would have not roused until morning came, but she woke in the dead of the night to the ground trembling.

Earthquake? she wondered. Trost was known for little tremors now and then, but none of them were serious. Sasha wrapped her blanket around herself, preparing to doze off again.

It was then that the tremors seemed to grow stronger. Slightly alarmed, Sasha sat up, prepared to move away if need be. They stopped as abruptly as they came, but she stayed awake, listening keenly.

The shaking started again, and this time, Sasha realized that they were distinct plodding noises. They came like drumbeats, rattling the pebbles on the floor each time they sounded. They seemed very much like footsteps…like the gait of a gigantic creature. Swiftly, Sasha rolled into a crouch, placing a hand on the hilt of her knife. She hadn't heard of large wild animals in this part of the mountains, but it would not do to be careless.

She waited, tensing as the resounding footsteps came closer. The horses were beginning to get restless, but Sasha quieted them with a few experienced strokes. Lord Rivaille had warned her repeatedly to leave the horses if she encountered large wild creatures – her life was always more important. She did so now, clambering down the rock to find a safer hiding place until the danger passed. She peered down the mountain slope, spotting the glisten of the lake many miles below. There were a few sparse houses along its rim, belonging to the mountain folk. Sasha wondered if she should just seek their shelter for the night, since there was a large creature in the vicinity.

_WHAT IS THAT?!_

She almost lost her footing, shocked as she was. There by the lake, she could see a monstrous silhouette, at least ten meters tall. Oh gods, it was human shaped! It lumbered around very slowly, many times the height of the buildings that were flattened beneath its feet. Each step it took shook the ground, causing the surface of the lake to shimmer.

Sasha couldn't breathe. Creatures like that don't exist.

This is just a nightmare!

No matter how many times she pinched herself, she didn't stop seeing the humongous beast. She stayed frozen for the longest time, quite unable to do anything but stare in horror. The horses didn't seem to have noticed it, and it was a miracle that they stayed quiet. Sasha couldn't even imagine what would happen if the monster spotted them. Would it ignore them? Would it get aggressive and attack them?

Would…would it eat them?

It was another miracle, perhaps, that the creature hadn't a clue they were there. After ambling around aimlessly for a few terrifying minutes, it disappeared into the trees, grunting unintelligibly as it went. Sasha, however, stayed rooted to the spot for a good few minutes before she could summon enough courage to move again. She crept back to the horses, curling herself into a quivering ball, her mind quite unable to process what she had seen. She began packing to move, sure that she would never fall asleep again.

But she still did, eventually. When she rose groggily in the morning, the air was fresh and the birds were singing. All was well and ordinary, and Sasha began to wonder if it had all been a particularly believable dream.

That is, until she saw foot prints thrice the size of a grown man stamped around the very same lake.

There was no mistaking it. The giant was as real as the sun in the sky.

**Author's Note:** I dropped 2 bombs on you guys in a single chapter! (Sounds like World War II lol) So there's something unknown about Armin's history…and the first troll has finally appeared! I know they aren't supposed to be active at night but whatever…they evolved…or something. Oh Hanji will be so happy :p

And my bribe still applies! For those of you who haven't seen the announcement, I'll draw a manga of a scene (of your choice) from this fanfiction when I reach either 100 reviews or 200 faves/followers. At the rate it's going, I'll have to draw one soon :) Looking forward to it!

**Please leave a review of your hypotheses about Armin! I wanna know what you guys are thinking :)**


	13. What Drunk Men Do

**DEAR ALL GUEST REVIEWERS: My replies to your reviews for ch 12 are in a review for ch 13. Just to to the reviews page and look for my comment to see them!**

**Ashes to Ashes**

**Chapter 13**

**What Drunk Men Do **

_Eren's POV:_

Yes!

Dinner is finally over! I was so nervous just now. I guess I'm still in a daze. Just a little over a month ago I was the lowest of peasants, and Mikasa and I struggled to feed ourselves. Even gazing at the King's face would seem preposterous (um…I learnt this word from Lord Rivaille, he says that I'm a preposterous little idiot) – who would have thought that we would _serve_ him one day?

Well…to be honest, I did make a few blunders here and there. I poured too much gravy on the potatoes, and Chef Jean had to wreck his brains to turn it into something else. He didn't have the time to yell at me, but I still feel bad about it.

When will I stop being a burden to everyone?

Then when I was carrying a tray of fruit for dessert (they only let me carry fruit, so that I wouldn't make a spectacular mess even if I dropped it), I tripped on a step on the way to the dining hall. The watermelon Marco spent so long carving into a pretty rose would have splattered on the floor if Mikasa had not caught it, with its plate and those little flowers decorating it and all. Then she caught me with her other hand.

How did she do it?! She is secretly a spy or something, I swear.

I guess I was extremely lucky the King never spoke to me. I would be rather dead if he did. I don't know how to speak fancily like Armin does! I would probably stutter and go all red, and maybe accidentally knock something over and embarrass Lord Rivaille.

Then he'll…k-kick me. And it's really painful…I'm terrified just thinking about it.

The King is just as scary as Lord Rivaille. He stopped when he passed by me this morning and stared at me. He said that he wanted to borrow me for – oh no I can't say it! I-I'm a boy, you know! Even if I were a girl, Mikasa said you shouldn't until you're eighteen.

I _really_ thought he was going to – I still can't say it! – until Lord Rivaille came to my rescue. But uh…he said…he said I was his, and the King can't have me. Even though I know he's just trying to save my skin, I was so embarrassed it's a wonder I didn't melt then and there into a puddle of mortification.

But lying to the King is a capital crime, isn't it?

Well, good thing His Majesty was only joking – I can't imagine what Lord Rivaille and I would have to do if he were being serious. To keep up the act, I-I might have to go to his bedroom at night and –

Gods! What am I thinking! I put my face in my hands and try to block out my horrid imagination. Since when have I been starting to imagine things of that sort?

It's absolutely ridiculous. And we're both men, so it can't possibly happen.

…well, but…

I know Ymir and Christa. And…not sure if I should be saying this…but yesterday at the back of the shed, I think I saw Jean and Marco…

Argh! I'm _not_ thinking about this! I shouldn't be thinking of things like this anyway! It's not going to happen at all. I won't let it! Lord Rivaille was just trying to dissuade the King, he doesn't mean anything!

Just as I was busy beating myself up (and trying my best to collect the dirty plates while doing so), Hanji walks in to the already empty dining hall.

"Aha, Eren!" she exclaims, sounding rather delighted. Oh no…when she sounds delighted, something _bad_ is going to happen.

I ignore her on purpose. I haven't forgiven her for locking us in the cupboard. That was so evil – and she even had the guts to ask me what happened in there. What did she think would happen, anyway?

"Aww don't be so mean!" she says, slinging an arm around me. It was then that I notice her holding a glass bottle of black liquid. "It was a joke, alright, a joke! And besides, I need you to send this to Rivaille's room."

My curiosity made me forget that I'm ignoring her.

"Why?"

"He's had a bit too much to drink, that grouch. He made me brew this so he won't get a horrible headache in the morning."

I accept the errand without thinking.

But as soon as Hanji passed me the bottle, she ran out, giggling. And yes, I notice Lady Petra smiling to herself in the corner of the room too. I look at the bottle, already regretting this. What was so funny? Have they set me up for _another_ joke? But what could they possibly prank me about? It was just delivering this bottle to the lord's room!

I shrug and set for the stairs, feeling slightly unsettled. I give the lord's door a few gentle knocks, but no one answers. It was unlocked, so I let myself in quite cautiously. I come here every morning to bring his tea, but I'm always newly stunned by how spotless it is. It's even cleaner than his study, for god's sake. How can any one stay in a room so clean without losing his mind?

Lord Rivaille is sitting in his bedside chair, his eyes closed as he massages them. I've been around him enough to know that he's in one of those moods, where he would gladly _step on your face_ if you disturbed him. Maybe the alcohol is already giving him a bad headache – I'd better be out before –

"Is that from Hanji?" he growls from his corner. I flinch a little. His voice is raw and he seems more irritable than I've ever seen him. His words sound a little slurred.

Oh no, is he drunk?

I can't imagine how violent a drunk Lord Rivaille would be. He's terrifying enough as he is. As I pass him the bottle, I can catch a faint whiff of alcohol coming from his usually odourless person (well, he usually smells excessively _clean_). Before I could walk over, he rises from his seat, heading towards me.

There's that glint in his eyes I've seen only once, when we were stuck in that cupboard. In the dim lighting of flickering wicker lamps on opposite sides of the room, he advances slowly, his short form made many times more frightening by his tall shadow. He paralyses me with his eyes…they've been fixed on me since I stepped in.

Suddenly, and for no reason at all, I feel very much like a rabbit before a ravenous tiger.

Something isn't right. I need to get out. Now.

I gulp and take a few steps backwards for every step he takes.

What's the matter? D-did I do something wrong?

Wait. Oh no. He can't be so drunk that he wants to beat me up! P-please don't come closer!

It isn't long before my back hits the door. I set the bottle down on the floor. He…he's still coming closer! He actually has a hint of a smirk on his face. It's terrifying. I fumble desperately for the doorknob…oh where is it?

When I finally find it, my blood runs cold. Impossibly, his hand is already closed over it, preventing me from making a quick escape. Just how fast is he! He's so close now…as close as he was in that cupboard.

"Running away, aren't we?" he says, sounding…kind of sadistic. His breath is warm against my ear, and I can feel his knee pressing mine.

What's going on? Something is definitely off.

I chance a look down at the handle. There's a key on it. Oh yes. He always leaves his key on the handle, it's a habit. He gives the key a twist and tosses it behind. It lands with a resounding jingle somewhere hear the window, on the opposite side of the room. I swallow again, fearing the worst as I attempt to turn the handle.

OH NO!

W-w-why he…he's _locked_ the door! I am truly panicked now. He is going to do something extremely evil, I can see it in his eyes. I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life. I am now locked in the same room as an extremely violent, drunk psycho. I am dead.

Bye, Mikasa…

He gives a sinister chuckle, and I feel shivers down my spine. I valiantly attempt to push him away, but he grabs my wrists. With a painful shove, he pins them against the wall, his nails biting into my skin. It hurts! He comes closer still. What is –

Oh.

…

_Oh. _

I…think I get it.

It's strange to be thinking of something like that now, but Mikasa and I have gone to Hannes' tavern late at night sometimes. When the men are drunk, they've always tried to get under her skirt. Of course, I've jumped up, but Mikasa never needed my help. And the men never tried to do that again after she dislocated their noses with her fist.

And now…

Lord Rivaille…he's doing what drunk men do, isn't he?

But…I-I'm not a girl!

**Author's Note: **

**ohohoho action (finally)! Moral of the story, don't go near drunk men. And I'm sooo evil to cut it off at this point LOL :D **

**Go save your brother, Mikasa…or maybe not. **

**As usual, do leave a review if you've liked it! :) I'll be looking forward to them! **


	14. A Battle of Pride

**Ashes to Ashes**

**Chapter 14 **

**A Battle of Pride**

_Still Eren's POV:_

Rapidly, my face begins to heat up.

Oh god!

I try to wrestle my hands out of his grasp, but he won't budge. I can't even get his fingers to loosen a tiny bit. He…he's _insanely_ strong.

"L-lord Rivaille… w-we can't…" It's hard to speak with his entire weight pressing against me. His breath brushes against my throat. No, I can feel his teeth grazing it too – it's so slow and agonizing. My breath turns into little gasps.

"I-I'm not a girl!" I manage to stammer. I already know it won't be of any use at all. He's completely ignored all my protests. And strangely, I'm beginning to think that I don't really feel like fighting it.

"Shut up," he hisses back, his nails cutting deeper into my flesh, as if daring me to continue struggling. It's so painful, and yet it makes the ringing in my ears louder. I flinch as I feel something moist in my left ear. My heart is pounding now, and all I can hear is his tongue as it glides sensually around my jaw.

What's going on?

His lips travel across my cheek to my mouth, leaving a trail of liquid fire. The intoxicating scent of alcohol is beginning to fill my lungs. I'm going a little dizzy, and my feet are slowly turning into mush. I feel kind of light, as if I'm a feather in the air. I can hear my heart sprinting as the blood begins to collect at a particular part of my body. My breath hitches further…

…but no! I need to stay awake here!

I _must_ resist. I can't let this happen when he's not thinking clearly at all. This is all so beyond my understanding…it shouldn't go on! H-he's my master and I'm a servant, w-we can't do this.

I tilt my face up…so that all he could graze with his tongue is my chin.

"Tsk…too tall," he mutters. He leans back deliberately, and I can see that the dangerous smirk has returned. He has that kind of look when he's ready to take on a challenge. "You want to be difficult? We'll see who wins."

Suddenly, he lets go of my arms.

Wh-what?!

Without warning, he hooks one arm under my legs. I'm taken completely off guard, so he manages to lift me completely. Stunned, I wriggle as hard as I can, trying to get him to loose his balance. If course he doesn't – it even doesn't seem to take him any effort at all! What is he doing? He's gone completely mad –

I land with a thump on something soft. Winded, I look around.

OH HOLY SHIT.

It's his bed. No no no no no…I d-didn't think he would actually…h-he can't really mean to…

I realize, to my horror, that he does mean to, and he has already clambered directly above me. His hands are on either side of my head and one of his legs is in between mine, so I've lost my only chance of rolling away. My panic rises even further as I try to crawl out from beneath him, but I only succeed in infuriating him a little. His teeth once again latch onto my collar, biting so hard it probably drew blood. I can feel the bulge of something press against my inner thigh, and I'm really afraid he can feel mine too. But the harder I flay around, the more brazen his caresses become.

Again he searches for my mouth with his tongue, but I purse my lips tightly as a last futile show of resistance. If he's too strong for me to push away, at least I can deny him entrance.

He hisses exasperatedly, his hands gripping my neck. My throat constricts, and I can't get even a sliver of air.

I! Can't-breathe! My lungs begin to scream, I claw desperately at his hands. Of course, they only clench harder. I'm beginning to see black spots, intermingling with his sinister smirk. Just…please, please let go!

Is he going to kill me for resisting him? Is he too drunk to know what he's doing?

Then, he suddenly releases me. I give a huge gasp, devouring the air like a drowning man. He gives me two seconds to catch my breath, and then plunges his tongue into my still open mouth.

Oh! H-he's so evil! I should have known!

He's always been quite intolerant of disobedience…and even now, I have no choice but to endure it. Alright, I admit it's not enduring but experiencing. I've never been kissed by anyone before, and definitely not in this hungry, invasive way. For the first few seconds, it's terrifying. But then his tongue entangles mine. My brain begins to shut down, and I feel the strength leave my arms. He's not rough at all after a while, and I'm surprised. It seems as if he's just exploring my mouth slowly, gently coaxing me to open up more. We're breathing each other's air, and I feel both hot and cold at the same time. Soon, I've completely stopped trying to push him away.

Beneath the alluring tang of wine, I can detect a subtle hint of lily, both on my tongue and in my nostrils. He tastes like a lily. How strange to think that…I've certainly never tried to eat a lily. But that's the only way to describe it. My tongue is becoming as brazen as his – I can't control it.

And my hands are betraying me, they're traveling up his back and feebly clenching his clothes. In return, he slides his right hand beneath my shirt, crawling upwards deliberately, enticingly. I gasp, his fingers are so cold against my overheated skin. Yet I find myself yearning for them to go further and further.

Why…why do I desire that? It's so – so wrong! We shouldn't be doing this.

He breaks off to let me breathe properly, but his hands do not rest. They're now fiddling with the second button of my shirt, since the first has already been completely ripped off in the little tussle just now. I lie back, too dazed to process it all. He starts to tug hard at it, too impatient to bother with all the seven buttons. There's an alarming tearing sound, and cold hair hits my bare torso.

I-I...he's destroyed my shirt!

It's in three large shreds now, I can see it as he tosses it aside. Well, technically, he provided it, but still! And strangely enough, that just makes me feel more pressure down below. I didn't know he's such an impatient man…

…he's so impatient…for me?

"It's not enough, isn't it?" he whispers in my ear, as tantalizing as the Devil himself. His voice so rough and demanding, I can't think of a coherent reply.

"Not…enough…" I agree numbly, not even knowing what I'm saying.

I don't protest at all as he fiddles with my belt. I don't know what I want anymore…the pressure is so great, I just want some sort of _release_. He can do whatever he wants, I can't win him anyway. I just want to lie back and let him.

Then his hands stop.

I look up at him quizzically, but he stares back at me. Eh? I'm so shocked that my heart misses a beat. His eyes are different – they're clear now, without a single hint of the drunken-ness from before.

"So you desire it too," he said, suddenly rolling away from me. He…he's going away? He settles at the edge of the bed, sitting up. His voice is completely lucid and sharp as it usually is.

Wait.

He's _not drunk_?!

"What?" he says, glaring at my speechlessness. "You actually believed I drank too much? Is that why you let me go on?"

He leans in close, his eyes ablaze. I suddenly realize that he sounds so angry, although I can't figure out why.

"S-so you knew w-what you were doing the whole time," I stutter, not knowing what else to say. It was all too much.

"I drank one mouthful, if that's what you're wondering. So yes, I'm completely sober."

He is indeed. But why…why would he do that?! Is he trying to humiliate me?

I don't know to handle this situation. I don't know how to continue looking at him either, so I turn around as fast as I can, flopping face-down on his bed. If I continue doing this, maybe he'll go away. Or maybe I'll wake up and realize it's all been a dream. That would be wonderful. All I can think of now is how shamefully I've acted, and how he's going to beat me up for it.

Oh why did I realize sooner that it all fake! His actions were too coordinated for a heavily drunk person, now that I think of it.

Someone, just kill me now.

I flinch as I feel something land on my head. He's going to kick me, I know it! I brace myself for the blow, but I was rather surprised to realize that it's just his fingers, running gently though my hair.

"Eren," he says. His voice is as gentle as his fingers. I've never heard him speak so softly before.

"Do you desire me?"

I bury my face deeper into his blankets. Well! He can kill me and he won't get an answer. Now that I know he's not going to hit me, how could he have fooled me like that! He's going to regret playing with my feelings. I'm NEVER going to admit it.

Deal with that, hmph!

"Do you desire me, too?" he asks again.

Wait…that's different, isn't it? I stop trying to dig a hole in his bed. It's almost annoying, how one word can change its meaning so drastically. Too? Alright, so he's won again. I can't help but turn around, my eyes falling on his silent figure at the edge of the bed.

I stare at him, stunned. I've never seen him wear that expression. He's looking away from me, and I can barely see his face in the lamplight. He looks a little sad, and even a little…nervous. It's well hidden beneath his permanent look of arrogance, though his hands are tightly clenched. Suddenly, I have the feeling that I'm the only person in the world who gets to see him like that. He looks so lonely. He's always been so fierce and capable and strong…I've never realized that he's so alone.

He's always alone.

I have Mikasa, Armin, Jean and everyone else in the village, but he doesn't have anyone to understand him. And he's cold because there's no never to give him any warmth. There's never anyone who noticed that he needs it.

It sounds impossible but…has he just sort of made a confession? He's waiting for me to either accept it, or step on it, and he's afraid of the answer. He's the one always stepping on me (literally…I admit I may have accidentally pushed over his bookshelf while trying to clean it and…er…smashed some of his antiques), but not the other way round! This freedom…he's giving me the right to crush him, isn't he? He's letting me, a mere peasant choose when he can easily force his way.

Why would he do that? Is he not afraid of being hurt?

Why does he even want me in the first place? I'm just a servant! I don't have anything except for the clothes on my back (well, not even _that_ now that he's torn them off). I'm not even a girl, and I'm not attractive at all, compared to Mikasa. Why does he want me?

But he's waiting, and I must give him an answer.

"Y…yes," I say. I've already been so thoroughly embarrassed, a little more won't hurt.

He turns around and I wait for his response, probably even more nervous than him. I…I really can't believe my eyes. I don't think I've ever seen him smile.

Lord Rivaille _can_ actually smile. It's a very small one, but it's beautiful and it suits him. His usually aloof eyes are forming elegant curves, and they light up with a kind of fire. He was born to smile, and yet he almost never does. I wonder what happened to make him this way?

If he would smile for me, would he smile more in the days to come?

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000

_Rivaille's POV:_

It's almost anti-climatic, how things went after that. We're just sitting in silence, not daring to look at each other. Since when have I not dared to look at that little idiot?! But I don't, and we've been sitting this an _extremely awkward_ way for the past five minutes.

It's driving me mad.

And that's not the only thing making me lose my sanity. All that…stuff…just now has given me an…issue. But I'm determined not to go on, because he's too young. I'm ten years older than him. It'll be taking advantage of him, won't it?

"S-so do we c-continue?" he suddenly asks. He's stammering, but he's turned so brazen. And I think it's my fault.

"No, you're underage," I snap back, more at myself than at him. If he knew what I'm currently trying _not_ to do to him, he'll probably try to run out of the door. If he were smart, he would stop tempting me now. He isn't, unfortunately. His cheeks are pink, and it's getting harder and harder to suppress the need.

"Saying that after all we've already done…" he mutters, sulking. Why, he's turned so daring! Is he not afraid of me anymore? I need to teach him a lesson soon. His lower lip is sticking, and I have to physically clench the bed-sheets to prevent my hands from wandering where they shouldn't.

"We're _not_ doing it."

It's insanely difficult to bring myself to say these words, though. My teeth are so clenched I'm sure they'll start cracking soon.

Argh!

Just what is it about this _damn kid _that is making me so irrational?! Alright, so I've done a bit more than I intended to, when I was testing my hypothesis. I'm sorely regretting it now. I CAN'T let myself loose. He's so young – he doesn't know anything about this kind of matter, and he'll probably be very uptight. He's not ready at all. It's going to be too painful for him to handle. I can't bear to cause him so much hurt, so I _won't do it_.

"T-then do I go back now?" he says, looking like a kicked puppy.

I really can't handle it.

"Stay," I tell him, sighing. I regret say it, of course, but it's too late anyway. Besides, I've accidentally wrecked his shirt. What would the other servants say when he appears in the middle of the night, wearing _my_ shirt? There're enough rumours as it is.

"You can sleep here. I'm going to look through my documents."

I'm doing that because I can't possibly sleep with my blood running so fast through my veins. I doubt I'll be sleeping at all tonight, and there's no one to blame but myself. That _stupid_ Hanji sent him in, so I'll blame her too.

Eren doesn't protest, although he looks a little apprehensive. He won't be getting any sleep either with me glaring at him, so I make a show of going to my bedside desk and pulling out my papers. The amount of pretending I need to do to for the sake of this kid – I might as well just be a stage actor.

I think I hear him yawning. I forgot, he must be quite tired after a day of hard work.

"Good night, Lord Rivaille," he says quietly. His sleepy voice is doing strange things to my heart…surely, it's a crime to be so…endearing? Yes, I've actually begun to think of him as my own, haven't I?

I grunt in reply, afraid that he'll notice it if I say any more.

I sit quietly by myself, trying to actually read. Of course it doesn't go in, but I'm slightly calmer now. When I look back at him, he's already sound asleep. This kid! He can sleep after all that? And I thought he had an...issue too - he must be way too tired. I decide not to be offended. It's better this way.

Even so, I can't help getting up to caress his hair. I think I've earned my right to do that. It's so messy and all over the place, you'll never imagine it to be so delicate and soft to the touch. I won't do any more now…I don't want to loose my head when I've just gotten it back. He trusts me not to do anything unseemly while he's asleep, and I don't want to betray that trust.

I settle with just inhaling the scent of firewood. It has filled my entire room, and I feel at peace. Outside, the darkness is cold and quiet. The moon hangs like a piece of gold upon the mantle of the night. There's a radiant little star by its side – it isn't lonely.

It isn't lonely anymore.

The world is asleep, and all is good.

**Announcement (please read): **

**I've hit 100 reviews! I'm so happy…thank you guys sooo much…I never thought that so many people will be reading this! I've written this exceptionally long chapter as a show of gratitude 3 It's almost 3 times as long as a standard chapter, I hope you guys like it!**

**So as promised, I'll draw a short manga of a scene of your choice! Just leave me a suggestion of a scene to draw in a review (unregistered readers can comment too). I'll select the top 4 choices and make a poll out of it. Then I'll draw something based on the poll results! Looking forward to your suggestions :)**

**As usual, guest reviews to chapter 13 will be replied in a review for chapter 14. Just scroll down the reviews page to look for my reply :)**


	15. Highly Intelligent Individuals

If you haven't voted on my poll for the manga, you can find it on my profile page. Click the banner that says "Poll:…"

And I'm sorry for the delay…I've been making Shingeki no Kyojin badges with my friend Gin! We need to learn some humility, but we think they are awesome. You can see them here: **keyade,deviantart,com/art/Attack-on-Titan-Large-Ba dges-3-inches-diameter-388615048 (replace , with .)**

And here's the chapter! A long one to make up for the wait :)

**Ashes to Ashes**

**Ch 15**

**Hanji's POV: **

Nothing beats waking up in the morning to the bubbly feeling that you've succeeded.

Technically, the bubbly feeling only came when I staggered out of my room this morning, still groggy from sleep. I stumbled down the stairs, stopping suddenly when I see Rivaille's bedroom door open a tiny crack. Eren's head popped out.

_Eren's _head popped out!

And oh my goodness, he's wearing Rivaille's shirt! HA! I start a little dance where I stand, and Eren spots me. Terrified, he shrinks back into Rivaille's room. Yes, my dear, just stay in there. Who knows what Rivaille would do to you again when he wakes up? Oh. But he went in too fast for me to see if there're any red marks on his neck.

I wonder what happened last night?

Before you start suspecting that I'm behind all this, let me accord due credit to Petra. I think neither of us (the servants, even) can stand the _sexual tension _around the house anymore, so she's been dropping Rivaille little hints, gently pushin g him towards the edge. And he's finally fallen over! I mean, don't you think they're meant for each other?

Well, if I can't see what's going on, at least I can try to hear. I attempt to sneak to Rivaille's door and press my ears against it.

"Well, what are you still doing here?" Rivaille's voice is still scratchy with sleep. He sounds like he had very little of it. I wonder what occupied him the whole night?

Heh heh.

"I…I can't go out looking like this," Eren whined.

"So you're going to stay here forever?!"

"I-I'm wearing your s-shirt! Everyone's going to ask!"

There was a pause as Rivaille considers this. He's probably deciding whether to save Eren the embarrassment of facing it alone, or let him stay and conceal all of this a little longer. Hey Rivaille, why didn't you think of this before you tore his shirt, eh? (I'm guessing he did.)

He can be so silly sometimes…isn't it quite obvious that we _already_ know?

"I'll go with you to explain things," he finally replies. You could almost hear Eren brightening up – his relief is so great. Rivaille has a sense of responsibility, I give him that much.

"It's not like there's anything to hide," he continues. "Nothing happened, _Hanji_. And if you don't get your face away from my door in 10 seconds, I'll have your lab cleaned again."

...

Crap. I got found out.

But he's threatened me with the one thing I will _not_ risk for anything (not even this). The last time he did that…let's just say I was ready to take a leap out of the topmost window of this mansion. So I'm out of here.

I run back up the stairs, hearing Eren's indignant shout:

"You mean she was listening?!"

Yes Eren. But I'm not going to let you live it down, my apologies in advance! You are too adorable to tease.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Nothing much interesting happened after that. Rivaille called me to update the King about the latest disappearances. There were five more within the span of this week, and two of them happened in the mountain range between Shinganshina and Trost. I can't help but shiver a little. It's getting closer to home, isn't it? Sasha's out on a trip, I hope she comes back safely.

On the other hand, I'm glad. I have a feeling that things are boiling up, and we'll be hit with something frightening and terrible sooner than we think. And the more frightening something becomes, the more interesting it is. In fact, I think my findings have taken a bizarre direction. I've read the little black book I took from Rivaille's bookshelf several times. The more I look at it, the more uncannily similar the deaths become. I haven't shared this with Rivaille because I've not quite figured it out myself.

You see, I really think it is not a speculation. Think of me what you will, but I'm a scientist and physician, after-all. I would never let a piece of fiction cloud my sense of reality, but something makes me feel that this is _not_ mere fiction. I have worked for the late Lord Pixis, and he is not one to enjoy idle stories. He didn't have any children, so this book must be owned by him, and be of some importance.

"You seem to have more to say, Hanji," the King remarks, noticing my restlessness.

"Just an incomplete hypothesis, Your Majesty. Nothing worth mentioning," I reply, not knowing what else to say. How can I share this far-fetched idea with the _King_?

"Oh?" he says, frowning. "Let's hear it." The Knights on either side of him lean in with interest.

I fidget a little, slightly nervous.

"It's ridiculous, Your Majesty."

"Nothing is impossible."

Well then. Here goes…I dig out the book from one of my pockets and present it to him.

"Ah. I've read this when I was a child," the King comments, leafing through it. "Gruesome story, is it not?"

"Rather," Rivaille agrees. This is good. If we've all read it, it would be easier for me to explain.

"Gruesome in a way that reminds me too much what's been happening lately, Your Majesty," I say, testing the waters. The King looks up at me, his blue eyes unreadable. I reach for the book, flipping to a page.

"Right here, in Shinganshina, there was said to be a mighty wall. It is a well known fact that there are still remnants of a huge barrier built a thousand years ago at the edge of this city, so this part must be true. The wall was said to keep out man-eating giants."

"There is such a legend," the King agrees. "The three ring-walls stretch across the entire Kingdom – some of the ruins are still intact. Continue."

"_One day, the wall fell, and many were crushed beneath the giants' feet. Houses were flattened, and the earth shook like the end of the world. The river flowed red, and the air was thick with smoke. _And in this report, the farmhouses between Shinganshina and Trost were broken to bits. A year ago at this time, the river between our cities has been contaminated with large amounts of blood – it was the most serious case of the lot. There were more than twenty bodies then, all looking as if they have been torn apart with great force. The remainder look suspiciously as if they have been bitten into two, and there are some never found. Your Majesty, no mere human can overpower a group so large, and dismember them –"

"Nonsense!"

I look up, quite surprised to be interrupted like that. It is one of the knights, Sir Reiner. He shakes his fist at me, red faced and incredulous. The other knight, Sir Berthodt is trying his best to quiet him, swallowing nervously.

"Listen to yourself, physician," Sir Reiner hollers, looking ready to jab my eye with his finger. "Reading ridiculous tales from a children's book. Giants? Would we not see them if they are fifty metres tall, as you say? Do you take His Majesty for an ignorant fool?"

"Sit down, Reiner," the King orders sharply.

The fuming Knight sits down indignantly, still glaring daggers at me. Well! What was that? There is no need to get so hyped up over a mere hypothesis, is there? What a strange man…

Wait a minute.

"Have you read the book, Sir?" I ask him.

"Pft. I'm not a child, and I don't read children's books."

Well, indeed he looked as if he couldn't even read, the muscular bastard. I catch a sidelong glance the King gave me, and a common understanding passed within the short eye contact. This was confirmed by the Sir Berthodt's visible sweating.

"Everyone, please leave," the Kings orders suddenly. "Hanji, Rivaille, stay."

Sir Reiner looks just about to overturn the very table we are sitting around. With much self restraint and jittery persuading from Sir Berthodt, he storms out of the room, as rudely as he possibly can before the King. The multiple servants fill out of the room shortly after. The door closes, giving us privacy. Rivaille walks to it immediately, checking the surroundings with his outrageously sharp ears.

"How did he know they were fifty metres tall then," he scoffs after a while, leaning against the door with his arms folded. I never mentioned that little detail. Hey, so we all caught it, after all. I'm glad to be in the company of highly intelligent individuals.

The King eases himself out of his chair and paces around the centre of the room deliberately. There is a crease between his brows, but other than that, there is no way to know what he is thinking.

"Hanji," he says after a while.

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

"There is no need to continue with your report. I know what you're getting at."

"Alright," I say, my heart falling. He didn't believe me at all? This is bad…damn you, brainless knight.

"Frankly, your theory is not new. I have thought about it myself a while back. But I didn't truly believe it is possible until Reiner's outburst," he says, glancing through the documents again. "There are two possibilities. Either he's lying about not having read the book, or there is some truth in your speculation, unfathomable as it is."

Eh?

Did I hear that right? The _King_ has the same suspicions? I…I'm not the only one, afterall. I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed – it turns out that am not as clever as I think! Well, then I'll take back what I said. It is not good to be in the company of highly intelligent individuals.

"And this speculation, put in the logical way you presented it, is not so absurd as to incite such a reaction. You mention the earth shaking. On our ride here, I did feel mild tremors in a region that never has earthquakes."

I am very impressed now. His Majesty is as sharp as ever. I don't doubt that he is the only one who has noticed it, and I would expect no less of a King. Already he has more evidence than me, and he's not even a scientist. But we don't have nearly enough to come to any sort of conclusion.

"For now, we can only wait," Rivaille says, voicing my thoughts. "I will send more scouts into the mountainous regions, and we will look for specific signs indicating the existence of any large creature."

"And I will order my scholars to find every text ever written relating to this legend," the King agrees.

I think I'm almost worried.

I didn't expect His Majesty to take me so seriously! It is a suspicion based on a children's book, after all! What if I'm wrong – would I send them on a wild goose chase. I would have indeed caused his Majesty to look like a fool! What would Sir Reiner say then?

But how else are we going to make any progress?

"It's not your fault if this is a wild goose chase," the King says to me, noticing my discomfort again. I bow my head, touched. I decide I am glad to have an overlord like him – I can ask for no better King. He dismisses me, and I turn to leave, feeling lighter than I've had all day.

"Hanji," he calls as an afterthought.

I turn around.

"Thank you for keeping it a secret."

Secret? What – oh. Armin.

"It's my duty, Your Majesty," I reply.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

But this duty of secrecy, it seems, is coming to an end. Dinner came and went peacefully, with Eren stumbling even more now that everyone was waggling their eyebrows at him when he passed by. I even managed to give him an 'accidental' push that landed him directly in Rivaille's lap when he came in between us. Petra choked a little on her barely suppressed giggle, and even the King seems to be trying to keep a straight face. Rivaille looks like he's restraining himself from locking the boy in place with his arms, and Mikasa is giving him some encouragement to exercise that restraint with her glare. Eren scrambles up so fast that it is most comical, and his face is an adorable shade of pink.

He is so cute. I am regretting allowing him to Rivaille…

There is now some anticipatory tension underlying the idle happiness that comes after a good meal. Every member of the house is in the large dining hall, right down every single one of the Guard. The servants are standing around the room too, save for Sasha, who will only be returning tomorrow. They've been told to gather after dinner, although most of them don't know the reason why. Chef Jean does – he's been here during it all. He was just a child of 7 then, as I was. So does Gardener Marco. The only reason why we even have a Guard at all is this, so Commander Annie has been told of it too. Eren doesn't, since he's both young and new.

I hope he'll be happy for Armin – they're best friends, afterall.

And Armin is certainly the most clueless of the lot. He's standing amongst the other servants, looking around curiously.

Oh, poor kid. I wonder how he's going to take this? I don't want to see him leave – he's the sweetest, kindest, cleverest child I've ever met. The mansion won't be the same without him. But this is not for me to decide.

The King calls for him, of course. Armin comes up front, as bewildered as many other people.

"Please sit," the King says, gesturing to the empty chair right beside him.

"B-but I'm not fit to sit beside y-you, Your Majesty," Armin stammers, completely flustered.

"It's alright," the King says, smiling gently. He reaches out to ruffle Armin's hair, and the boy looks at the ground, not daring to meet the baffled gazes of the on-looking crowd. His hands are tightly clenched, and I don't think I've ever seen him so nervous.

"W-why have you c-called for me, your M-Majesty…"

Oh the poor child. He's so frightened, I think he's going to cry. Petra sits up in concern, visibly debating whether or not to go over, then decides against it. It is not her place to interfere, after all. Eren looks rather angry…he must have misunderstood it for something else, but I can't explain it to him _now_. Well King Irvin, you didn't have to do this. Armin's lived all his life as a servant – meeting the most important man in the country like this must be too much for him.

But I suppose you have your reasons.

"Don't call me that, Armin," the King replies with a sad smile. "It makes me feel so distant."

"Th-then how m-may I address y-you?"

The King takes a deep breath and looks at the boy for a long time. The whole room seemed to lean forward in anticipation. I can tell from Mikasa's calm demeanor that she has already gotten it. It's not that difficult to figure out, actually.

"Well, I don't deserve this title at all…" the King begins.

The room is so still, you can hear a pin drop. You can hear a strand of hair drop, to be honest.

"…but how about _'Father'_?" he says.

**Author's Note:**

**It's getting harder and harder for me to plant bombs in every chapter, but I'll still do it haha :D Yep so the huge secret is out! Btw, SnK ep 16 was so inspiring…I felt ready to jump up and kill any random thing I saw! At first, I thought I would be more interested in Free!, but it never did manage to hull me out from my unhealthy obsession with SnK. I guess I like stuff with drama and violence more...eh… **

**(The swimming anime is still awesome though, if only for the hot bods and the epic animation effects. I am a brainless fangirl, and proud of it.)**

**As usual, do leave a review if you've liked it (although I have nothing to bribe you with anymore, except for speedy updates lol). Guest reviews for ch 14 are replied in a review for ch 15, do go to the reviews page to see my replies! **


	16. Your Highness

**Hey guys, 61% of you voted for the bedroom fight, so I'll be drawing that! I've already finished the first 2 pages, you can see them here: **keyashiyou,deviantart,com/art/SnK-doujin-Ashes-to- Ashes-Pg-1-390055909 (replace , with .)

**Also note that that is not my formal account, it's only for Yaoi/BL. My actual (serious) deviantart account is here: **keyade,deviantart,com (replace , with .)

**Anyway, Enjoy!**

**Ashes to Ashes **

**Chapter 16**

**Your Highness**

_Jean's POV:_

We aren't the same, the King and I.

I feel quite relieved, really, now that the huge secret is out. Imagine keeping it from one of your best friends for fifteen years? It's harder for me than anyone else, because I'm aware that words tend to fly out of my mouth before visiting my brain.

But man, Armin's completely frozen. Actually, the whole place is frozen. It's never been this quiet ever in my entire time here…and that's saying something, because I've spent all my twenty three years here. Annie's face is as nonchalant as ever, and honestly, you can tell just from a glance who knew and who didn't. Most people looked like they couldn't quite remember how to close their mouths, though. I'm not surprised – I guess this can be considered the most dramatic event ever to take place in this house.

"Y-your M-m-majesty…I…" was all Armin can manage. That's pretty good, actually.

I would probably just…cease to function.

The King reaches up to ruffle his hair. His smile is so wistful, so full of sadness. It makes me wonder how much he wanted to watch Armin grow up. How painful must it have been, leaving his own flesh and blood behind for the sake of the Kingdom?

Their heads are the shade of gold…of course they are. Their eyes are the same vivid blue. Their other features aren't similar at first glance, but if you knew Armin as well as I do, you'll be able to see emerging hints of a strong nose and brow beneath his meek exterior. Armin mutters incoherently that the King is mistaken. I can see for myself that he doesn't really believe what he's saying anymore.

I want to sigh and shake my head. Actually, I want to give him a hug, because royal or not, he needs one right now.

Speaking of that, I can see Hanji finally getting up after a long while of fidgeting. Tsk, that woman. Always so bold.

"Oh Armin," she sighs, almost frivolously in light of the situation. A grin appears on her face as she pretends to remember something. "Ah! Forgive my insolence. I mean to say, _Your Highness_."

She steps away from him with a dramatic bow. Armin flinches so violently, it is almost a jump. Trust her to make it worse. But I can't say she has ill intentions – she's probably just trying to make light of the situation, so that Armin isn't so nervous.

I'm really surprised when _Lord Rivaille_ follows suit. He drops onto one knee, his fist over his heart. But unlike Hanji, he was perfectly serious.

"And mine as well, Your Highness."

You can hear mouths closing and reopening with audible snaps.

"L-lord R-rivaille?" Armin whispers, hardly daring to speak. He looks back at the King with pleading eyes, as if asking him to take back his words.

"This c-can't be, my…p-parents are dead."

He sitting stiffly in his chair, his hands clenched over his tighs. He's looking determinedly at the ground.

"Your mother is," King Irvin replies, reaching for one of those tightly clenched fists. Armin doesn't respond at all, and the whole room waits in trepidation, their breaths held.

"And you can blame me for that. Please, blame me."

His voice is so heartbreaking, I cannot stand it. I know the whole truth, after all.

No, Your Majesty, I want to say. But I can't – I am just a chef. Armin just looks away, his lower lip quivering. The King breaths a long, cheerless sigh at his refusal to look at him. I can feel my heart twisting painfully at the sight.

Even Kings are not immune to sadness, it seems.

"Let me tell you what you should have known, then," he says as he resurfaces the memories.

I was present at Armin's birth, but being seven, I neither remembered nor understood much. I do remember however, that she was kind and beautiful, with a disposition very much like Armin himself. She was a young laundry maid, and I'm sad to say I don't remember her name anymore. But I do remember that she would cook me meals and read me bedtime stories, and would wash my wounds whenever I came back crying after I lost a fight with Marco or Hanji.

When the King visited Lord Pixis for the first time at this mansion, he was unmarried and eighteen, then still a Prince. She was sixteen. Like how young people are, they began to see each other often. She didn't know who he was and he never told her, fearing that that would change things between them, I suppose. When Prince Irvin visited again half a year later, her belly was round. He did tell her everything then, and asked her for her hand in marriage. I can almost imagine how much of a scandal that would be – a fairytale of a Prince marrying a commoner? – but she declined. She didn't want to be caged up in a Palace, and nor did she wish that for their unborn child.

As her pregnancy matured, she grew very sickly. Hanji's father was with us at that time, and he said that neither the child nor the mother would survive. Prince Irvin vehemently refused to accept it, and stayed by her bedside for weeks. Lord Pixis wisely hid his presence from the late King and Queen, and during that period of time, the whole Kingdom was abuzz with news of their missing Prince. They were ready to send out entire armies in search of him, but thankfully, the child arrived.

She named him Armin – it means 'noble' where she came from. It's a fitting name indeed. The Prince, being the rash young man that he was, wanted to take the child back to the Palace, but she would not have it. With her dying breath, she told the Prince and Lord Pixis to raise Armin in this mansion as a servant, never letting anyone know of his heritage until he is old enough. She left the world, a few days later.

Amidst silent tears, the young Prince swore never to love another woman again. And he stayed true to that promise.

That's why I wouldn't say we have the same preferences. I was born to be attracted to men, but the way the King is now is a product of a conscious choice. After all, men cannot conceive children. They cannot die from childbirth. They wouldn't leave him in such a cruel way.

To go to such extremes, I can only begin to imagine how much he must have loved her. I look at Marco, feeling suddenly grateful.

Armin is crying, and I don't blame him. Crying is the only thing he can do now, is it not? He's crying for the mother he had never seen, the burden he is suddenly forced to shoulder, the bittersweet joy of discovering his heritage, the weight of it all. He's not saying a word though, he's just crying.

I guess it's his way of accepting and acknowledging it. I've always imagined this to be a happy moment, but I guess I was wrong. Who'd have thought being named a Prince would bring one so much sadness?

Poor, poor kid. He's the best person on earth to deserve this, and yet, he is last person on earth to deserve this.

I feel tears prickling my eyes. Marco holds my hand tightly.

Sadness is as infectious as happiness, is it not? Ah, damn it all.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000

_Eren's POV:_

At long last, Eren found him in the barn, hiding in a dark corner, trying to escape the world. He didn't really want to bother Armin when it's obvious that he needed some time to himself, but it wasn't good to leave him alone to wallow in misery and confusion either.

"Hey," he said, sitting on the barrel beside him.

"H…hey," Armin replied shakily, his voice muffled by tiny sniffs. Eren felt his heart twist – he's been crying alone all this time, the poor thing. Armin was shivering from being out in the cold for so long, but he was probably not ready to go back to the mansion now. Eren took off his coat and put it around his shoulders.

"My best friend is a Prince!" he exclaimed gleefully, thumping Armin on the back.

Armin fell from his barrel in shock and landed in a clump of hay. He scrambled up hurriedly as Eren giggled.

"You scared me," he said with the tiniest of smiles.

"I'm uncivilized, remember?" Eren replied, scooting closer. "You scared me too. I thought you ran away or something."

"I really want to," said Armin softly.

"Don't you want to go to the Palace?"

"I…I don't want to leave this mansion."

"What about the King then? Doesn't he want you to go?"

"If I go, who's there to give you Rivaille advice?"

"H-hey!"

"He…gave me a choice," Armin sighed, staring at the ceiling. It was broken, to the extent that the stars can be seen through it. Armin looked at them wistfully, his eyes large and sad. He stretched out a hand as if to grasp them, but they only winked wordlessly, always winking wordlessly.

Eren watched him, not knowing what to say. It was an impossible choice.

"You're still my friend, you know," he said finally. "I don't care about this Prince-or-not nonsense."

At this, Armin gave up trying to hold back tears and buried his face in Eren's shirt with a small wail. Eren wrapped his arms around the smaller boy awkwardly, trying to stroke his hair comfortingly.

It had been a long day, and he had no doubt Armin would make the right decision when he's well-rested again. But for now, he needed some warmth. He needed someone to take the burden off his shoulders, if only for a while.

Together they sat under the stars, until dawn found them both asleep in the barn.

**Author's Note: I'm running out of stuff to read…can someone suggest me a good Rivaille x Eren fanfic? I don't know what right I have to demand this, but please…only the ones with good English, goooooood English! The really good ones I've read are 1994, You're Not Alone, An Anthem for Sheltered Bays and Eros Magna :)**

**The chapters are getting longer, though the time it takes for me to update them is too lol. I'll try to speed up, I'm so sorry for making you guys wait so long! I was actually drawing the manga haha.**

**As usual, do leave a review if you've liked it! Guest reviews for ch 15 will be answered in a review to this chapter, just go to the reviews page to look for my reply! **


	17. And the Walls came Tumbling Down

**Ashes to Ashes**

**Chapter 17 **

**And the Walls came Tumbling Down**

In the garden gazebo all alone, Rivaille could think.

Of course, thinking was what Rivaille did everyday, for many hours at a time. But now, thinking was no longer enough. Something's happening, and it would only be a matter of time before it hit them. Even the sky was monochromatic with imminent rain, as if prophesizing heavy events to come.

To get straight to the point, a portion of the Shinganshina city wall had fallen in.

A portion of the city wall had _fallen in_. It even sounds ludicrous.

It happened last night, at a stretch furthest away from the city centre. It overlooked only farms and sparse storage houses, and fortunately (or unfortunately) no one lived close enough to see it happen. It was only discovered at the break of dawn, when the farmers arrived to tend their fields. Within two hours, a frightened sentry from the Shinganshina Guard was at the mansion's door, stuttering the news to a barely-awake Rivaille.

He didn't believe it then, of course. He didn't think to connect it with the killings of late, either. Whoever heard of a 5 metre thick, reinforced wall collapsing on its own like that? But he had ridden there immediately with the King, and they saw the debris for themselves.

It had not _fallen_ in, one glance was enough to tell that much. Rivaille remembered a bitter taste rising to his mouth as his stomach twisted. If they weren't sure then, they were sure now. Rivaille couldn't help feeling that this happened just to remove any last lingering doubts about Hanji's theory.

"It's been pushed in," said His Majesty.

Now, Rivaille had a nauseous feeling. On hindsight, they actually knew this was going to happen, did they not? After all, it was all written in that little book. It's uncanny – he might be thinking to much, but it always begins with the walls falling apart. In the book, the Giants made a hole in the legendary fifty metre wall that surrounded Shinganshina…he'll be damned if this didn't foreshadow something.

There're no words to describe how uncomfortable it was – the feeling that history was repeating itself.

The sound of footsteps approaching made him lose track of his thoughts.

Eren was running towards him, grinning broadly, without a care in the world. Rivaille sighed. He's probably not heard of it yet, the little idiot. He ran clumsily, tripping once over a curb and recovering with an embarrassed smile. Rivaille felt his heavy heart unclench a little.

How wonderful it is to be naïve.

And it's strange, how at that very moment, the weather flippantly decided to change. The sun broke through the bleak clouds, washing the grey sky away with golden light. It scattered soft rays upon the pretty little blossoms all over the garden, reflecting off pebbles and tender blades of grass. The beams landed on Eren's hair, making it glow radiant copper. His smile is radiant.

Everything about him is radiant. Despite himself, Rivaille felt the corners of his mouth lifting. That little idiot.

He's born to be in the sun.

Rivaille pretended to read, trying to hide his sudden good mood behind his papers.

"Lord Rivaille!"

No response.

"It's time for lunch," he declared. "Please come to the mansion."

Still no response.

"Lord Rivaille?"

Eren was getting a little impatient. It took all Rivaille's willpower to prevent himself from laughing when the boy crouched down, trying to see if he had fallen asleep. He waved a hand in Rivaille's face, but Rivaille didn't bat an eyelid.

He liked the view. Eren was bent over right in front of him, and at the top periphery of his vision, Rivaille could see a little down his thin neck and into his loose tunic. Ah…such pale skin. There was a little lean muscle…and…

"Lord Rivaille!" Eren whined, shaking his arm.

"You're noisy," Rivaille muttered. Hmph, he's certainly gotten bolder. Before, Eren won't have dared to come within a meter of him, much less touch him.

"Where were you last night?" Rivaille demanded. He hadn't seen Eren anywhere after dinner ended.

"Last night? Oh! I was in the barn with Armin. We fell asleep."

So that's what he's been up to. Well. This idiot was so annoyingly loveable – of course he'll have friends. Friends Rivaille would have to share him with. Even if the friend in this case was the Prince himself.

"So I'm not special after all."

"E-eh?"

"You'll spend the night with anyone."

"Eh! N-no! Armin was sad and I was talking to him and…ow!"

Rivaille let go of his nose after giving it a long pinch. Eren rubbed it, and it turned a rosy shade of pink. It was too much to bear, so Rivaille decided he didn't have to bear it.

Without giving the brat a chance to recover, he stood up, leaned forward and planted a peck right on that nose.

"W-what…"

"Oh shut up," Rivaille snapped. He grabbed a tuft of that soft brown hair, pulling Eren's face towards him. This time, he went for the lips, which were still half open with a protest that never came. Eren's was stiff with surprise at first, and he tried to push the lord away by instinct. But his lips betrayed him, for they became soft and eager.

Rivaille allowed himself to smile into the kiss. Little brat.

Without the tang of alcohol interfering with his senses, Rivaille could taste him properly. Eren tasted like forest dew, fresh and delicate. Rivaille knew that his supposed 'greeting' getting too long to be decent, but he couldn't bring himself to break away. It was as if the events of the morning had taken something away from him, and he was trying desperately to devour it back. And Eren was perfectly docile in his grip – his instincts urged him to take advantage of it.

"Ahem."

Eren flinched so hard that their noses collided. Rivaille broke away with great reluctance, preparing his coldest glare for the interrupter. Couldn't they see that they were cutting short something –

Mikasa stood a respectful distance away, looking strategically at them, but not quite at them.

"Pardon me, my lord," she began. "I was wondering what took Eren so long to call you for lunch. I thought he got lost or something."

Eren let out an audible yelp and tried to hide behind Rivaille (which didn't work since he was taller), turning beet red in a matter of seconds.

"I'll be going now," Rivaille declared, striding forward and leaving Eren behind with his sister. He could almost feel the boy's baleful eyes on his back, blaming him for abandoning him at such a moment. Rivaille smiled, since no one would see it.

"Eren," he heard Mikasa bark.

"Y-yes!" Eren stuttered, sounding like he had just been caught stealing cookies.

"Remember to use this," she said.

Hmm? Use what? Rivaille almost turned around in curiosity, but decided that he could just deduce it from their conversation.

"W-what's this?" Eren seemed infinitely relieved that she wasn't going to dismember him.

"Lubrication."

"What lubri –" Eren began.

_Oh_.

Rivaille's grin widened. So Mikasa gave him a bottle of oil? That girl. Actually, he was almost sure this was Hanji's great idea.

Well, he can interpret it as being granted permission, then? He felt his mood lifting even further. Today wasn't so bad, after all.

And this annoyingly innocent kid, he doesn't even know what it's for.

There was a moment of silence.

"M-MIKASA!" Eren suddenly howled. There was an audible slapping slapping sound as he thumped his sister hard on the shoulder. Then there was the sound of Mikasa's soft laughter.

So he does know what it's for.

This kid.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 

Her vision was extraordinary, and so were her companions'. A small gift for shouldering the burden of being different, perhaps. The three of them stood at the gaping hole in the wall, almost reverent. It was broken at the exact same position – of course it was at the exact same position. Memories carried in blood are not easily forsaken.

After all, they had been here a thousand years ago.

"We will move tonight," the man said.

It had taken them many lifetimes to reach this moment.

In some, they met, in some, they didn't. She couldn't remember how many ages she'd walked, stumbling along the vast empty plains of time. She had seen too much suffering. She had been the cause of too much suffering. Perhaps this is why she was always so aloof – her physical body may not remember it, but her soul remembered, and was long weary of this world of pain.

She didn't care anymore for her life – as long as she can be free. There are only so many times one can live and die, relive and die before all they yearn for is release. Maybe there was a time when she had the drive. But a millennium was enough to wear anyone down.

She was tired.

"Do it," she said.

She was so damn tired.

"It is no longer a time to play," the man said. "Our next hit will be critical."

It doesn't matter. She has no attachment to anyone. Anyone at all.

The other man was slightly anxious about their next victim. This was strange in itself, considering what they had done over the past thousand years. One would think that he would be immune to killing, but he isn't, after all.

"Armin, the King's son," he said with bead of nervous sweat rolling down his temple.

Armin.

Of all people, it had to be him. No, of course it would be him. To anger King Irvin into starting a war, they had to strike at a place where it would hurt the most.

She didn't care!

She won't care. She won't allow herself to. They are all the same. They are just humans. He is just a human.

He hasn't walked her thousand years. He is a young existence, fragile and tiny. He doesn't mean anything.

She has no emotions. No emotions.

No feelings.

Armin.

No feelings.

Strike at a place where it would hurt the most. Oh. It would hurt alright. It would hurt too much. But she won't let it.

She was so tired of her heart.

...

She wished it were someone else.

**Author's Note: I'm sorry for the delay! But I'm trying to strengthen the storyline, and that takes a lot of thinking. I think it's pretty obvious who the mysterious 'she' is at the end of this chapter…and it's pretty obvious what I'm shipping here. Blame ep 17. **

**Lots of people left me fanfic suggestions! Thank you guys so much, I'll get round to answering them later today :) I apologize in advance that my responses to reviews may be delayed – I'm always busy trying to make this story better. So hope you'll forgive me haha. I will definitely reply them though. Guest reviewers, you know where to look. **

**I'm not gonna deny that it's gonna be goddamn hard to write now, because of all the things I could have done, I just **_**had**_** to write an AU with Titans/Titan Shifters in it, when there isn't nearly enough info on them. I haven't any idea what the shifters' motives are, I haven't any idea what's in that annoying little basement. And I'm gonna attempt to write a fic based on this info. I feel like Jean, charging into something that will certainly be the end of me. Hooray. **

**Btw, theories about Titans, anyone? **


End file.
